


Lost Weekend

by Innercityisis



Series: Found Treasures [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Intersex Loki, Loki loves champagne, M/M, Steve loves jazz, stalker Loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2018-01-10 01:27:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 37,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1153142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Innercityisis/pseuds/Innercityisis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if rather than pausing for cinematic effect, Odin managed to quickly pull both of his sons back from the edge of the abyss?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I found this pairing by accident and was instantly hooked. Its such a cracky ship but it works!! This is my first substantial piece of writing featuring Stoki and I hope I managed to properly convey my affection for these two. A bit about my Steve, he actually makes use of all that army back pay. He's not necessarily one for the high life but he has a big house and likes his creature comforts. Oh, and he cooks, lol. For the purposes of this story, Loki is in possession of both sets of genitalia, aka a hermaphrodite. When I wrote the story I was thinking more along the lines of some sea creatures/animals/plants than the human aspect. I know with humans things tend to be less cut and dry. I am not out to offend anyone so if the "h-word" is problematic for you, my apologies. In this verse, Loki is not up on the latest terminology and neither is Steve, for that matter. My Loki identifies as male (sometimes angrily) so those are the pronouns I use. Issues pertaining to this will surface within the story.
> 
> A bit about Odin's "dyngja"...It's an old Norse word that means a bower or private room. It's a special type of prison that I created out of thin air but is based on an actual type of dungeon called an oubliette. Except for it's, you know....magic. 
> 
> This story has a sequel, which is nearly completed. I hope to have it up soon. 
> 
> Thank you for reading :)

Chapter One

 

The light dancing along that golden needle would haunt Loki's nightmares for years to come. 

As the implement pierced the flesh of Loki's lips for the first time, it was a white-hot, glowing agony. On the second pass it felt like kissing molten metal. By the third, fourth and fifth times, there was little Loki could compare the feeling to as his entire existence was awash in the purest excruciation. 

Thor's bright blue eyes gazed down at him sadly and Loki made sure to put all of the hatred that he was feeling into his own. He wanted Thor to see that he despised him. Had he not been so inept, none of this would have had to happen. This was all Thor's fault. That Loki was currently powerless in those scarcely capable hands only fueled his rage. 

Bearing the instrument of Loki's torture, Odin All-father's senescent face swam into view, the evidence of his disappointment apparent in his remaining eye. He knotted the final stitch, securing his handiwork and effectively making sure that Loki's lips could not so much as pucker, much less open and allow him access to speech. It was a lucky thing because at that moment Loki would have called down the fires of his magic and burned his father's precious kingdom to a cinder. His father. Loki's thoughts moved to the Jotun king he had slain and the knowledge that it was Laufey who was his true sire burned Loki far worse than any pain Odin and his enchanted needle could inflict. His entire life was a lie. 

 

The grim task was completed and Loki was hauled none too gently to his feet. A fierce looking gag was placed over his mouth and while the Trickster thought it was terribly redundant, he was in no position to voice his opinion aloud. 

Thor stood before him and wiped what Loki assumed was his own blood off of his chin. He did not speak, and instead maintained a stoic facade as he proceeded to place heavy cuffs around Loki's neck, wrists and ankles. The cuffs were joined by a thick chain that crawled with golden runes. Odin's magic. There would not no breaking these.

Thor secured the chains and gave them a quick test. To no one's surprise, the restraints held. 

The Thunder god stepped aside as large hands grasped Loki's upper arms as the disgraced Prince was hauled to his father's throne room. It seemed that all of Asgard had come to see Loki brought to justice. It hadn't been that long ago that the citizenry had borne witness to Thor's failed coronation, and now this. _Oh Odin and his troubled boys._

 

Standing at the front of the crowd was Thor's merry band of idiots. The Warriors Three along with their pet quim, the Lady Sif gazed at Loki with hard eyes. Sif smirked at Loki as he passed and right then, the Trickster wished that he had taken her head all those years ago, as opposed to just her hair. He stared back at her, allowing the darkness to fill his eyes and was gratified when Sif's smirk began to leak away and was replaced by something much more wary.

Frigga sat on her throne looking like the queen that she was in a gown of spun gold covered in glittering gems. To the casual observer, Frigga was just as regal as always but her blue eyes were sad as they gazed down at Loki. 

For the first time since Odin had pulled him back from the edge of the broken bifrost, Loki gazed up at his mother and felt true regret for his actions. In spite of everything that had come to pass, Loki cared deeply for Frigga. The Queen was the only one in the whole of Asgard that seemed worth anything. She had always been kind, her lap always warm and welcoming. 

Frigg had schooled him in the ways of magic and tended to his wounds when adventures with Thor proved to be a hazard to Loki's health. A stray tear escaped from his mother's eye and Loki quickly averted his gaze lest her sadness be his undoing.

The heavy sound of Odin's staff being struck against the floor reverberated through the cavernous space and the anticipatory whispering came to a halt. Odin-sleep had done the king well but he still looked worn. When Odin spoke, however, his voice was rich with power and vitality.

“Prince Loki of Asgard......You stand accused of seizing the kingship through treachery, as well as plotting to kill your brother, the true heir. In addition,your actions regarding the bifrost not only resulted in it's destruction, but also the near obliteration of the realm of Jotunheim. You have upset the balance and threatened the long standing peace between the realms and for these despicable deeds you will be placed in the dyngja for no less than eight cycles.”

A murmur rippled through the crowd at this. The longest anyone had ever been placed in Odin's magical prison had been four cycles. More was not usually needed as the dyngja was a place where seconds were days. Minutes were years. That Loki would be spending more than double the time in there was harsh even for Odin.

There was a heavy sound of scraping stone and the large throne that Loki had briefly sat upon as king moved back, revealing a small, hidden panel. The gravity of the situation began to set in and for the first time since being brought into the room, Loki began to feel afraid. He had seen the men pulled from Odin's dyngja. They were often ghostly white, teetering on the edge of madness, and that was just a few cycles. Loki would be in there for eight. What state would he be in when the time came for his removal?

Thor was a silent pillar beside him. Loki could feel the tension radiating off of his brother but did not dare to spare him so much as a look. Instead, he looked defiantly forward, meeting Odin's gaze unflinchingly and filling his own with a venom he did not truly feel. He wanted to hate the old man. Wanted Odin to feel the profound sense of loathing and rejection that Loki struggled to swallow back even then. But alas, at that moment, Loki just felt tired. Tired of family, tired of power struggles, tired of the golden reminders that he was something other that would never truly belong.

When the panel was opened, Thor wrapped his large hand around Loki's upper arm and led him over to the dais. The last time Loki had stood atop this platform he had borne title of King of Asgard. Loki felt he would have been a good king if he'd been allowed a decent reign, but instead, he was being placed beneath the throne he had so coveted. Odin said as much as Loki passed by him and Thor's hand tightened on his arm reflexively. Perhaps his brother understood that even with all that had transpired, Loki was still willing to damn the consequences and strike out.

The brothers approached the edge of the dyngja and Loki stared down into the impossible blackness of the hole. It was only slightly larger than a coffin, with no room to move and no light to see. It was a tiny abyss contained within a kingdom of golden light and the gaping maw of the dyngja was wide open, ready to swallow The God of Mischief whole. When Thor lifted him from his feet, Loki considered struggling. He didn't want to go into the dyngja. He just wanted to go to his room and read scrolls. He wanted to sit at his mother's side and discuss magical theory. Loki looked over at Frigga and saw that she was watching him through a wall of unrestrained tears. She whispered his name softly and the god closed his eyes, the tears finally escaping. _I’m so sorry mother_ , was his final thought before Thor lifted him and his body was lowered into the dyngja, sealing his fate and encasing him in unfathomable darkness.

 

 

_End of the Eighth Cycle:_

 

The warm hands on his cold, clammy flesh were a startling shock that caused Loki to cry out behind his gag. He felt his body being pulled upward and the sensation was immediately followed by the blinding agony of moving muscles that had gone long unused. Tears rolled down Loki's cheeks as thousands of tiny pinpricks of pain threatened to overwhelm him. There was a rush of light and Loki squeezed his eyes shut. He could not remember the last time he had seen anything other than endless darkness and the sudden brightness felt as if it were searing his eyes right out of his skull.

“Careful with him,” said a musical yet authoritative voice and Loki knew that his mother was in the room. 

The Trickster's head lolled on his shoulders as he was dragged along by at least two sets of hands, his body being held up high enough that his feet barely grazed the floor. 

“Bring him to the healing room,” ordered the Queen, and the harsh brightness that beat on the other side of Loki's closed eyelids faded to a torchlit dimness. He risked opening them to mere slits and, though a haze of tears, was able to vaguely make out the shape of Frigga as she walked down the corridor ahead of him. The Queen, as if sensing his eyes on her, gave a quick glance over her shoulder before turning a corner. Loki's head dropped forward again as his bearers followed close behind, the thud of heavy boots being the only sound in the corridor.

When they reached the healing room, Loki was placed on a long table. The shackles were removed from his neck, arms and legs and had he the strength, the Trickster would have rubbed his limbs in relief. As it was, all he could do was stare passively at the domed glass ceiling of the healing room and out at the universe beyond. 

“Leave us,” said the Queen and the sound of retreating footsteps followed. The door shut heavily, leaving Loki and Frigga alone. Loki sighed as the sight of billions of stars was interrupted by the Queen's face was above his. Her vibrant blue eyes were just as sad as the last time he saw her.  
“Oh my sweet boy,” she whispered, gently brushing the hair back from Loki's clammy forehead. “What am I going to do with you?”

Loki's eyes were hot and itching as he stared up at the one person who had been a buffer against this harsh world. Her elegant hands caressed his jaw and Loki clenched his teeth as the metal gag was gingerly removed from his face. The rush of air was cool against the wet skin around his mouth. If the Trickster's wounds were as ghastly as they felt, Frigga's eyes did not show it. All Loki saw was love and concern in their depths as the Queen began to wipe the crusted blood and puss from around his stitches.

Once the task was done, Frigga produced a small golden dagger from the folds of her gown. “I am going to remove the stitches now,” she said, her face deadly serious. “This will hurt Loki. Please remain still.”

 

Several agonizing minutes later, a shivering Loki lay on the table as Frigga leaned over him, softly singing a song as old as time itself. It was a song of healing and as the runes danced over the surface of Loki's skin, he could feel his pain in his face and limbs subsiding. By the second verse, Loki could open and close his hands without discomfort. He could wiggle his toes and flex the muscles in his thighs. When the final verse came to a close, Loki opened his mouth and gasped, relishing the sudden rush of air down his throat. 

Frigga smiled softly. “Feel better?”

Loki gave a small nod.

“Your brother asked me to inform him when you were able to take visitors. He wishes to see you,” said the Queen. She gathered the soiled cloths and wash basin and placed them on a nearby table.

“Thor is not my brother,” Loki croaked. His voice sounded harsh to his own ears, rusty and brittle from going unused for so long. “Just as Odin is not my father.”

Frigga tossed away a cloth she had been wiping her hands with and eyed Loki archly. A swish of gown and she was beside him again. “Am I not your mother then?”

Loki turned away, unable to hold the Queen of Asgard's intense gaze. “No,” he said. “You are not.”

“Well you'll have to forgive me if I disagree with you,” said Frigga, unruffled by Loki's declaration. “Regardless of who sired you, it was I who tended to you as a babe. It was I who loved you and watched you grow into a beautiful young man.” Her musical voice rose in annoyance. “Do you forget who taught you your very first trick?” 

Loki turned to see his mother standing, cross armed, beside the table. Her impossibly blue eyes glittered with the power of the universe itself and Loki was reminded why he loved this woman so. The Queen of Asgard was beautiful and frightening and loving all in the same breadth. She had seen battle as well as raised children, all the while possessing formidable skill in magic that she had been kind enough to pass on to the child she thought of as her son. 

“What you did was wrong, Loki. I understand that you were hurting but you should have come to me. We could have come together as a family and discussed this.”

“I did come to you, do you not remember?” Loki could feel the anger that had gone numb during his imprisonment swimming to the surface. “I came to you and the moment your precious Thor returned, you cast me aside just like everyone else. Tell me, what kind of mother favors one child over another?”

“Thor had been all but lost to us,” Frigga defended. “It was a turbulent time. Of course I would go to him. That did not mean my love for you was any less Loki.”

Loki closed his eyes, ready for the conversation to be over before it had even really begun. He wanted away from Frigga and away from Asgard and anything that reminded him of the life he now knew was a lie. “Is Odin satisfied?” he asked. “Have I paid my debt to the golden kingdom and its royal family?”

“You are part of that family Loki, and yes, your father has agreed that you have served your punishment. He and I both hope that you have learned something from all of this.”

“Oh I have learned a great deal, to be sure,” said Loki. “Too much, in fact.” He attempted to sit up and Frigga was immediately at his side, assisting him. She wrapped a protective arm around his shoulders and helped ease him into a sitting position. For as much as Loki wanted to push her away, he begrudgingly accepted the help. His body still felt alien to him, a house returned to after a long voyage abroad. The time in the dyngja had been spent living mostly inside his own head, disconnected from the body that felt every torment his punishment entailed. 

Loki looked down at the clothes that hung heavy on his nearly emaciated frame. He held his right hand up for inspection. The nails were long and claw like, the skin pallid and as thin as parchment. Frigga had healed his most grievous injuries but the rest would be up to Loki. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths.

“You needn't over exert yourself Loki. I can help you to your room.”

“I think I'll manage on my own, thank you. I've had just about all the help I can stand at this point. Why don't you go help Thor. No doubt he would bask in your coddling.”

Frigga breathed in sharply through her nose but gave no other outward sign that Loki's words had affected her. 

“Very well,” she said brusquely. “If you want me gone then I shall leave you.

As for the matter of your release, you are free to come and go as you wish so long as you cause no further trouble. Heimdall will be watching and has been instructed to inform Odin should your behavior turn suspicious. Furthermore, under no circumstances are you to enter Jotunheim. Should you try, your life will be forfeit and Asgard will not be allowed to intervene. It was one of the conditions for a new peace treaty with the Jotun.” 

Frigga slowly moved away from the table. When she reached the center of the room she turned and faced him. “When you are ready to rejoin your family, we will be here.” The expression on her lovely face was sober, yet a spark of hope danced in the depths of her kind eyes. It made Loki ill.

“I would not spend too much time waiting,” said the Trickster, his voice laced with contempt. The venom that was already simmering within him had reawakened upon his release from the dyngja and now, with the addition of his own self loathing, anger at the entire situation bubbled hotly within him. How dare Frigga look as if she was the one hurt by Odin's lies. Had she not gone along with the entire farce from the very beginning? Had she not told him bedtime stories about brave and noble Asgardian warriors and the frost giants they had slain? “With any luck, Ragnarok will be upon us before I have to see any of you again.”

Frigga did not respond to Loki's barb. Instead, the only mother that he had ever known shook her head, resigned to the fact that Loki was far to deep in his own anger to appeal to. A shimmering gold mist enveloped her form and Frigga was gone in the span of a heartbeat, leaving Loki alone in the healing room with only the bile at the back of his throat for company. 

Cursing inwardly, the Trickster climbed down from the table and stood on unsteady legs. Moving still felt vaguely unreal, the knowledge of his body coming back to him, but slowly. It was as if he were a child again. 

_Reborn from darkness._

 

Loki reached out to that part of himself that carried the magic and found that it was barely awake. He needed to replenish himself and in order to do that he needed his books. There were several spells that could aid in his recovery. Several potions whose soul purpose was restoration. If he could just make it back to his-. Loki stumbled and went down hard on one knee, the shock of pain going straight to the Trickster's core. He hissed through clenched teeth and struggled not to cry out as he fought back tears of agony. 

He was more determined than ever to get back to his room. “Get up, damn you.” 

Gripping the edge of the table, the Trickster pulled himself up and began carefully making his way across the room. Upon reaching the door, Loki straightened his back and squared his shoulders. To say that he still felt like shit would be an understatement but no way was he going to allow the twits of Odin's kingdom to see him struggle beneath the weight of his own feebleness. 

Loki stepped out into the hall and commenced the walk back to his quarters. Few passed him in the corridors and those who did, avoided looking in his direction. He clenched his jaw and fought down the urge to tear out every open throat he came across. _How dare they not even so much as acknowledge him!_ It was a grievous offense but Loki forced himself to concentrate on the objective which was getting to his suite of rooms. 

At the end of a long hall lay the door that led to the Trickster's space. His walk was slow as he approached it, purposeful. Trust Frigga to place wards on the door. Loki was a paranoid sort and his mother was well aware. No doubt she did it to make sure that his things remained undisturbed in his absence, not that anyone would be so bold as to enter the god of Mischief's suite without his permission. Loki's hand touched the door and the magic fell away to nothing. A spell sensitive to his very essence. He wouldn't have had the strength to remove a ward using magic so it was very convenient. How very motherly of Frigga to have thought of everything.

The moment he entered the suite and closed the door behind him, Loki felt an invisible weight lift from his chest. Even after so many years, the space provided the Trickster a sanctuary away from the rest of Asgard. When Loki desired true solitude, he would invoke protections so that only he could cross the threshold. Were others to try, a number of ghastly ills would befall them. Thor had learned the lesson the hard way and it had taken nearly three weeks for his face to return to a normal color. 

The only one to ever successfully breach Loki's wards had been Frigga and that had been after many attempts. Instead of being angry, the Queen had beamed with pride. Later that night, Loki found a bag of his favorite sweets slipped beneath his pillow. Smiling, he vowed to make the next ward even stronger. 

Walking into his bedroom, Loki shrugged off the tattered remains of his clothing, shuffled over to his oversized bed and climbed aboard. The mattress felt impossibly soft beneath his hands and knees. It had been so long since he'd lain in a real bed. Groaning in pleasure, Loki wrapped himself in the thick fur blanket. Just a little nap wouldn't hurt. He would go over the books once he'd rested a bit. If he was lucky he would dream of strangling Odin. 

 

Had anyone been standing in the room a few minutes later they would have seen a small smile spread over the sleeping Trickster's face. 

****

 

By the time he opened his eyes again sky over Asgard had gone dark and someone had lit the candles in his room. He gave several blinks to allow his eyes a chance to adjust to the candlelight. A small movement closer to the fireplace caught his attention and the Loki realized he wasn't alone. The visitor cleared his throat and he sighed. “What do you want Thor?”

Thor's face was neutral as he watched Loki from the corner of the bedroom. He sat in Loki's reading chair, big body overflowing from it and straining at the seams of his leathers. The hammer was nowhere in sight. 

“Mother insisted that your release be a quiet affair. That she be the one to see to you. She says you continue to deny us.”

“That I do,” said Loki. “And yet you would still seek to impose yourself upon me. Has all that transpired between us taught you nothing?”

“Oh it definitely has, Loki. It has taught me that the bonds of family mean nothing in the face of a lust for power, and that my brother behaves like a spoiled child when he does not get his way.”

“Oh you're one to talk. Get out.”

“I will not,” Thor rumbled. “Not until we've spoken.”

“I have nothing to say to you,” said Loki.

“Nothing? Not even an apology for trying to kill me? No 'I'm sorry for stealing the throne, Thor'?”

Loki sat up abruptly, incredulous. “You are expecting an apology? From me?”  
When he saw that Thor looked as if he was indeed expecting it, Loki laughed, a full throated, harsh sound. He laughed until his eyes watered and his protruding ribs felt as if they were on the verge of shattering. His head was beginning to ache and he still laughed. Eventually, Loki calmed down. 

“Oh, Thor,” Loki sniffed and wiped his eyes on the edge of the blanket. “Thank you for that.” 

He climbed from the bed, still chuckling lightly, and approached the massive bookshelf that dominated his far wall. “As if I would apologize to you. Actually, on second thought,” he turned on his heel and faced an annoyed looking Thor. “I _am_ sorry. I'm sorry I was unable to finish the job when I had the chance.”

“You don’t mean that,” said Thor.

“Don't I?” asked Loki. “I wasn't placed in the dyngja because I tried to hug you, Thor. Don’t be such a sentimental fool.”

Sadness filled Thor's vibrant blue eyes. Eyes that were so like their mother's in shade as well as level of kindness. “Who _are_ you?” Thor asked, sounding hurt and looking honestly bewildered. “Surely you cannot be the one I have called brother for all of these centuries.”

“You're right,” said Loki, thrusting his chin forward. “I am not your brother. Just as Frigga is not my mother and Odin is not my father. You are not my family and the sooner I am away from all of you, the better off I'll be.” Loki held himself stiffly, naked and proud, even as the torrent of emotions raged inside of him. 

Thor looked as if he wanted to say more but in the end, the Thunder god sighed a deep sigh and lowered his head in defeat. When he looked up again, his eyes were shimmering and Loki swallowed. “I will always see you as my brother Loki. Just as Frigga and Odin will always see you as their son. All your misdeeds combined will not change that.” The big man stood then and slowly made his way toward the door. Loki's fists were clenched tightly at his sides and when the door to his bedchamber closed, the he let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. His throat felt as if it were collapsing in on itself. Pressing the heels on his palms against his eyes, Loki fought down the sadness that threatened to bubble to the surface. Damn Thor. Damn them all. He had to get out of there.

 

Once Loki trusted himself to remain composed, he returned to the task of locating the needed books. He selected several works from the shelves and brought them over to his writing table. If all went well, he would be able to cast the necessary spells and be out of Asgard before sunrise. Loki was done with the golden kingdom of illusions. He would put as much distance between himself and Odin as possible. But where would he go? 

Loki flipped through the pages as possibilities aired through his mind. There had to be a place where he could vanish among the throng, shedding all of that he was in favor of something more nameless. Loki was in the middle of scanning a passage when the thought occurred to him. He could go to Midgard. It would be a simple thing to lose himself among the millions of mortals who crawled across that little round world like ants. He could even use his magic to hide from Heimdall should the need arise. After all, there was no sense in having Asgard's nose in _all_ of his affairs. The decision was a made and a smile crept across Loki's face as he had also found the spell he'd been seeking. 

It wasn't difficult to gather the necessary potion ingredients and the dialect of the incantation was one Loki was long familiar with. The Trickster spent the next few minutes grinding the herbs and powders together, all the while focusing his still sluggish magic on the outcome. The last of the ingredients were incorporated and the finished product was added to a small cup of wine, resulting in a mixture was very thick and nearly black in color. 

With a quick recitation of the necessary words, Loki slugged back the potion (made a disgusted face), and prepared himself for the effects. Within a few moments the he began to feel a warmth pool in his belly and gradually spread outward until his torso and extremities were tingling like he was standing naked in front of a roaring fire. A prickle at the back of his mind informed him that his magic sensed a like element and was currently feeding on the nourishment its presence provided. 

Loki felt more substantial. Powerful. The ritual was a success and the Trickster gave himself a full body shake, reveling in the vitality now coursing through his limbs. He was closer to what he'd been before his imprisonment, the gauntness having returned to a well muscled leanness. Loki's stance was steady, his feet firmly planted. 

In spite of recovery, however, he was in desperate need of a bath. Loki sniffed himself and wrinkled his nose in distaste. Apparently, there were some things not even magic could fix. This would have to be done the old fashioned way.

He could signal for servants, but Loki had no desire to see anyone, not even the scurrying shadows who tended to his daily needs. So instead he chose to flex the long unused muscle of his magic and conjured a golden tub filled with frigid water and floating chunks of ice. 

The nearly frozen liquid welcomed him home as he submerged himself completely. 

When Loki was a boy, Frigga often worried when he would insist on taking his baths this way, but eventually she had relented and he had been allowed to bathe at any temperature he wanted. It wasn't that he couldn't tolerate the heat. Loki could actually withstand very high temperatures if he had to. It was the fact that the cold just felt so good. So natural. Healways felt better after a bath in frigid waters. 

Of course, the knowledge that he was a frost giant helped explain his penchant for freezing baths. He was a creature of the ice. A monster from the depths of the frozen realm. Even as Loki bathed beneath the golden roof of Odin's palace, he knew that his true place was prowling around the harsh wastelands of Jotunheim, snarling and skulking along with his fiendish brethren. 

The bath suddenly didn't seem as inviting as it had moments before. 

_Midgard?_

Yes, Midgard. Sooner rather than later. Loki sat up in the tub and quickly scrubbed himself clean. 

Once finished, he climbed out of the water and created a circulating current of air to dry himself with. He vanished the tub and dressed in a simple traveling outfit of green silk and black leather. 

During his imprisonment, Loki's hair had grown well past his waist and while he preferred it long, that much length was not required. Using magic, Loki stood before his mirror and trimmed his raven-black hair so that it fell just below his shoulders. His nails were next. When it was done, the Trickster leaned forward and scrutinized himself closely. 

The reflection showed a pink cheeked, bright eyed man who was a scant number of years into manhood. The lie of it all brought a cynical smile to Loki's face. For one, Loki felt downright ancient as he gazed back at his youthful reflection. Secondly, the question his _manhood_ had actually been bandied about quite a bit by the Aesir. Never to his face, of course, but he'd heard things. 

Loki supposed that if nothing else, finding out the truth about his heritage had, at least, answered some longstanding questions about his anatomy. He now knew that that which had confused and frightened him as a youth, was actually indicative of his race. Unfortunately, that knowledge did little to soothe the long standing feelings of otherness that had plagued Loki since childhood.

The awareness of his own differences had dawned on Loki the first time his older brother had escaped from his bath and proceeded to run about the palace naked. 

Preparations were being made for the harvest celebration and their mother had been insistent that Thor, who had a habit of going weeks without bathing, be scrubbed from top to bottom. Thor seemed to have other ideas, however, and halfway through the bath, he had chosen to abandon all sense of self preservation and bounded from the tub, much to the shock of the servant girl who was washing his hair. 

A hysterically laughing Thor had succeeded in evading his would be captors several minutes and chose to add insult to injury by cartwheeling around the throne room. 

A cold feeling grew in Loki's gut as he observed his brother's childish antics. He and Thor had stood side by side as they pissed in the woods so he knew that they were the same in that they both had cocks, but the similarities ended there as Thor did not seem to have the.....extra bits that Loki did. 

 

The differences between Loki and the rest of his so called family would only become more apparent as time passed. Loki's slim build and pale skin were incongruous with the tawny girth of one such as Thor or even Odin himself, with his face being more angular, his features finer. 

When a confused Loki had come running to his mother, frightened by his own body and its otherness, Frigga had assured him that there was nothing wrong with him, and that he was just as he was meant to be. Still, through the years, Loki could not help but look upon his father and brother with envy. He was a moon in a family of suns. 

He was making the right choice by distancing himself from them, lest he be further burned by their light.

Loki packed a sizable bag that contained a few items of clothing and his most important magical works and items. He then shrunk the container down so that it fit neatly into the center of his palm. Tucking the parcel into his coat, Loki gave his chamber a long look before sweeping his hand outward and extinguishing the candles for the last time.

 

He did not encounter any of his “family” on his way out of the palace and for that he was grateful. Mostly. All that needed saying had been said and no doubt someone would ask him questions he was in no mood to answer. Make him talk about things he didn't want to talk about. 

Loki walked to the palace gardens, and as he approached the the branch of Yggdrasil that extended into Asgard, the Prince whispered the necessary incantation across the night air. The ancient tree gave an imperceptible shudder in response and the bark became passable, allowing Loki to walk along roots older than time itself. 

 

The trip to Midgard was not a terribly long one and as Loki entered the realm, he was not a person but a raven, appearing from nowhere and settling on the spire of a house of worship. Intrigued, Loki gazed out at the curious view of uninspired buildings and strange vehicles moving along the roads. He flew from the spire and made his way toward the taller buildings on the horizon. The sun had nearly set and several of them had begun to come alive with light from within. Loki wanted a closer look. 

The Trickster coasted along the air currents, sweeping his gaze across the dark body of water that separated his entry point from the island of glittering lights. As he approached, he noticed that the number of vehicles moving along the road had increased dramatically. This was an area rife with activity and Loki could see the people scurrying back and fourth beneath him, blissfully unaware of what was flying just overhead. One such as Loki was beyond their mortal comprehension. Midgardians had a limited scope and he could lose himself among them without being thought of as anything more than a fellow inhabitant. 

Landing in an unseen area behind a row of shops, Loki made sure he was alone and quickly shifted back to his normal form. He stepped out of the alley and was immediately swept up into a wave of Midgardians moving along the sidewalk. He towered over many, but not all. Loki tried not to gawk openly at fragile looking creatures as they hurried around him, but it was difficult. He was so used to being among the smaller ones and here his physical presence seemed almost imposing. These were the beings who had captivated his br-Thor so? Loki could hardly see the appeal.

The wave stopped and Loki noticed a red light beaming from atop a a tall poll. The words, _Don't Walk_ flashed beside it and the wave of people complied, coming to a halt and waiting patiently as the vehicles sped by in two different directions. After a few moments, the light went from red to green, the vehicles halted on either side, the word _Walk_ began to flash, and the wave of mortals continued their migration up the sidewalk, the occasional traveler separating themselves in order to head into one of the brightly lit shop. It was positively fascinating. 

Loki's eyes were tracking a random Midgardian as he walked just in front of him. The stranger stopped suddenly and stepped into an establishment that was much more dimly lit than the others. Intrigued, Loki followed behind the man and was greeted by the familiar sight of a tavern. He smiled, as some things did not require any explaining. It had been ages since Loki had enjoyed anything other than memories of drink and he was curious to see what Midgard had to offer. 

The Trickster walked toward the end of the bar with fewest patrons and sat on one of the battered leather stools. He was greeted by a stalwart looking gentleman who took in Loki's attire and narrowed his eyes.

“You sure you aren't looking for the Cobra Room?” the man asked him. “Its about three blocks up and might be a bit more your scene.”

“And pray tell, barkeep, what is it you think my scene is?” Loki let his annoyance (and just a hint of power) show in his eyes and the barman paled ever so slightly. “Is there something about my attire that makes me unfit to be served in this establishment?”

The barman took in Loki's black leathers and flinty expression and conceded defeat. “Look, I don't want any trouble Mister, I was just trying to help. What can I get for you?”

“Bring me a glass of your strongest spirits,” said Loki, not really confident in the potency of Midgardian liquors. The barman strode away and returned with a bottle of dark amber liquid. 

“This is fifty year old scotch,” he said. With his barrel chest and full beard, he reminded Loki of Volstagg. “It's not necessarily the strongest but it's certainly the best thing in the house. I am, however, going to have to see some cash up front before I so much as pull the cork.”

Loki laid several gold coins on the bar. The barman looked at him, at the coins, and then at him again. “You're kidding right?”

Loki raised an eyebrow and the barman seemed to understand that he was not. He took one of the coins in his hand and held it up to the light. “If this is what I think it is,” he said. “One is enough. And you can keep the bottle if you like.” He tucked the coin away quickly and handed the rest back to Loki. “You might wanna put those away. If someone knew you were carrying around real gold coins they might try something. There's some real scum creeping around the back streets.”

Loki smiled a small smile at the idea of encountering a Midgardian ruffian in some dark alley. The things he would do to such a creature. 

He took the remaining coins and pocketed them. “I will take that under advisement.” 

The barman gave a nod and poured a generous amount of the liquid into the glass. While the spirit could not compete with Odin's private stock, it was not without it's charm and Loki enjoyed the warm feeling it gave him as he sat in the subdued setting of the tavern. 

There were several others at the bar, all gazing raptly a glowing screen where pictures danced on the surface. An artfully painted woman was speaking and behind her, in a smaller box, was none other than the mighty Thor. He must have departed for Midgard not long after intruding on Loki in his room. 

Training his hearing on the box, Loki listened closely as the woman recounted a skirmish that Thor and several others had had with a band of mechanical creatures. The woman disappeared and was replaced by a scene of Thor tearing what appeared to be a metal spider limb from limb. His expression was one of glee as metal screeched and sparks flew. Thor was made for the battle. He thrived in it. 

Engaged in conflict not far behind Thor was a blue clad warrior wielding a round shield bearing a white star. Throwing the weapon in a perfect arc, the warrior managed to destroy several of the machines before reclaiming the shield. The warrior moved with purpose, his movements almost too fast to track. 

_"Captain America and his team of Avengers made quick work of Doctor Doom's mechanical monsters this afternoon, saving the city millions in property damage. The Heroes also managed to rescue several trapped office workers in a burning highrise._

The warrior, who Loki assumed was Captain America, barely had time to exhale before several other metal beasts were upon him, but the cowled hero handled them with skill, driving his mighty fists into chest cavities and tearing out tangled messes of sparking, smoking wires. 

Another mechanical creature joined the fight, this one a brilliant red and gold. He fired bursts of power from his hands, disabling several of the creatures and it was then that Loki realized he was assisting Thor and the Captain. The screen switched back to the painted woman and Loki, who had gotten caught up watching Captain America fight, was almost disappointed. It must have been a spectacular battle to witness firsthand. Or better still, be a part of. Even with it not being his passion like it was Thor's, Loki could appreciate the thrill of a good fight. 

_“And speaking of Captain America,”_ said the woman on the screen, _“here he was just a few hours later at County General, visiting their children's ward. The Captain signed autographs and handed out toys to all his tiny fans. Our very own Bethany Stall managed to get a word with the hero.”_

The screen changed again and on it appeared a petite young woman who was dwarfed even more so by the large, vibrantly dressed man who stood beside her. Without the cowl, Loki could see that Captain America had flaxen blond hair and blue eyes as vivid as the skies over Asgard. The hero smiled shyly as the reporter practically gushed over him and praised his altruistic endeavors.

 _“Well, these kids and their parents have to deal wit a lot,”_ said the Captain. _“If I can help brighten their days by taking some time out of my schedule then I'm glad to do it.”_

The scene changed to that of children crowding around a laughing, smiling Captain America and Loki turned his attention back to his drink, musing over what he'd just seen. A skilled warrior who also took time, post battle, to visit sick children and bring them toys. Loki never even knew such things existed or that this Captain America fought alongside Thor. 

He supposed there were worse men to have at one's back and a small part of him was almost glad that the big oaf had, at least, aligned himself with what appeared to be a worthy champion. 

Loki emptied his glass and refilled it with an even more generous serving. A feeling was blooming at the back of his mind. Midgard was becoming gradually more interesting. After all, this was a place where giant machines that were _not_ sent by Loki roamed the streets. Were there, perhaps, even more fascinating things? 

Gesturing to the barman, Loki drained his glass again and set it none too gently on the bar. 

The gentleman walked up gave a low whistle, eying the glass as well as the bottle with its significantly diminished contents. “I guess you know how to put away your drink.”

“Indeed,” said Loki. 

“Did you need something else?”

“Where might I seek accommodations for the evening?” 

“Well,” the barman seemed to give it genuine thought, “not far from here is the Waldorf. Considering your resources you would probably be most comfortable there. A bit ritzy for my taste but I hear good things.” He gave him instructions on how to reach the building.

Loki agreed to go to the Waldorf and inquire about a room. In the end he left the barman with a third of a bottle of scotch and the promise that he would return to the establishment. 

Stepping out into the night, the Trickster felt pleasantly warm and just a little bit lighter than he had a few hours previous. He now had a purpose, even if that purpose was just procuring lodging for the night A test of his survival skills in this strange, hectic place would be welcome. Loki moved along the sidewalk, flowing through the crowd like liquid, the passersby unaware that they were being careful not to touch him. Even in the deep recesses of their primitive brains, the mortals knew a threat when they encountered one. 

 

Minutes later, he arrived at a large, artistic building and made a mental note to take the barman some sort of gift when he visited next. The mortal fancied gold. Perhaps Loki would leave him a trunk or two. 

Being part of the royal house of Asgard, the Prince had always liked to travel in style and when he found himself having to spend an extended period in another realm, he preferred to enjoy the finest accommodations whenever possible. His favorite rooms were the type far removed from the commonality and surrounded by many creature comforts. Loki suspected that this was one such establishment. The sight of formally dressed men, and women clad in fur seemed to confirm this. 

Several servants were unpacking trunks from those strange vehicles as Loki breezed by. A drunken, feminine laugh drew his attention and he turned to find it emanated from a young, red haired woman wearing white fur and hanging from the arm of a larger, older man. Loki met her green eyes briefly but moved on as he saw that there was challenge there, a cold calculation that he recognized as a trait within himself. Whoever that woman was, it wasn't the giggling nymphet she was pretending to be. And her rotund companion seemed blissfully unaware as he drunkenly belted out a song in a language Loki vaguely recognized. 

 

The young woman behind the counter, however, was pure, sugary sweet innocence and Loki put on his most charming smile as he sauntered up to the desk. 

She beamed back, her brown eyes twinkling. “Welcome to the Waldorf, my name is Angeline, how may I assist you this evening?”

“Hello, Angeline.” Loki gave a wolfish smile. “My name is Lucas Laufeyson. I believe there is a room reserved for me.” 

“Alright, let me just check on that for you.” Angeline ran her fingers over tiny, keys as she gazed at a glowing screen and it was a small thing for Loki to manipulate her mind so that she saw what he wanted her to see. She smiled at the screen. “Ah, yes, Mr. Laufeyson. It says here that you have the deluxe package, is that correct?”

Loki smiled. “Correct.”

 

Minutes later, Loki was standing in a spacious suite with deep, plush carpeting and elegantly designed furniture. The chatty young man who had shown him to his suite, had just finished informing him of the amenities and was set to depart when Loki placed two coins in his palm. An already congenial smile grew wider and the boy was still examining the coins as Loki closed the door. Using magic to shed the clothing from his body, he strode over to the large glass table that dominated the eating area. A lush assortment of what appeared to be fruit was piled high on a silver platter while a large green bottle sat nestled in a bucket of ice. A small, elegantly scrawled note lay beside the bounty and Loki plucked it from the table.

“Thank you for choosing the Waldorf Hotel. Please enjoy this fine champagne and tropical fruit assortment as a token of our hospitality.” 

Loki looked back at the offering and absently placed the note back on the table. He took hold of the bottle and held it closer. Champagne. Another Midgardian concoction. Pulling the cork, Loki took a long swallow from the bottle. When the bottle pulled away from his lips with a pop, Loki was grinning. Champagne was quite possibly the best thing he'd ever tasted. He reached for a piece of fruit. It was the first piece of food to touch Loki's lips in what felt like an eternity. He groaned as the sweet juices covered his tongue. Midgardian fruit was delicious! Loki ate several more pieces and with the champagne bottle still in hand, tore himself away from the table and proceeded to familiarize himself with the rest of the rooms. 

A large box, not unlike the one at the tavern, hung on the wall of the outer room. A television, the boy had called it. Sucking the remnants of fruit juice from his fingers, Loki waved a hand in front of it. The screen remained black. Narrowing his eyes at the contraption, Loki was set to hit it with a blast of magic when he spied a wand covered in colored keys. It looked similar to the one that the barman had been using in the tavern. 

Loki picked up the device and began pressing the keys in no particular order, jumping back when he pressed a large one and the box sprang to life. Odd looking creatures were cavorting back and fourth on its surface and Loki gave a delighted laugh. He stood staring at the box for several minutes as he changed the pictures using the wand and took occasional sips from the champagne bottle, pausing whenever he came to anything featuring Thor or the blue clad hero known as Captain America. 

_“Spirits were high yesterday as Captain Steve Rogers, aka Captain America, paid a visit to the Center For a Better Tomorrow, a non profit organization that helps homeless veterans get the housing and opportunities that they need for a fresh start._

_We had a chance to speak with the Captain who, as usual, declined to make the interview about him and instead, kept the focus on the soldiers who have sacrificed so much for their country.”_

The Captain, who Loki now knew was named Steve, appeared onscreen and Loki was once again caught in the beauty of the man's eyes. They were bright and clear and earnest as they stared out from a handsome face that looked barely out of boyhood. 

_“These men deserve a second chance to have a real life for themselves,”_ said Steve emphatically. _“They've given so much and we cannot allow them to be carelessly cast aside by a world they fought to protect. We owe these brave soldiers better than that.”_

 

Such a champion, this one. Loki absently touched the bottle to his lips as he contemplated the screen and the man on it. Suppose he were to approach this noble warrior, this champion of the people. Would the smiling soldier's face melt into a sneer once he discovered who Loki truly was? Or would he perhaps spare a few kind words for a fallen Prince, letting him know that even though he'd done bad things, he too was entitled to a second chance. Loki was loathe to admit it to himself but he liked the idea of a few kind words. 

Part of the Trickster craved contact and Steve Rogers seemed to be the ideal one to make said contact with. 

Loki gazed intently at the footage of the Captain as he sat in a small circle of men, all of whom bore the haunted expressions of people who had seen dark things and been forever altered by them. Each took turns speaking and the Captain looked as if he were listening to every word, his eyes intent, his body turned slightly toward the speaker. What Loki wouldn't give to have the undivided attention of someone like that. Ugh. He tossed the wand over his shoulder and stomped toward the bedroom. 

This was absurd, mooning over some soldier like an insipid wench. For all Loki knew, Steve Rogers was just as insufferable as Thor. But even as the thought crossed his mind, somehow Loki didn't think so. He suspected that Steve Rogers might be special even among his own kind. He needed to know more. 

 

Over the next several days, Loki's purpose changed yet again and he became devoted to learning all that he could about Captain America. The Trickster watched the screen incessantly, constantly scanning for any bits that mentioned the hero or his alter ego, Steve Rogers. He'd figured out how to order room service and spent most of his time sitting naked on the sofa, scanning the television for information, gorging himself on fresh fruit trays and drinking copious amounts of champagne. 

Though this method of information gathering was not ideal, Loki was able to procure decent sized bits here and there. Nothing really of note, save for the fact that Captain America had recently woken from a very long sleep at the bottom of one of Midgard's oceans. His story was like something out of a bedtime story. The tale of the brave soldier who sacrificed himself for his people, only to return to their descendants years later. 

That the hero was walking around in a time not his own, fascinated Loki. No doubt the Midgard of now was different from the one he'd grown up in. It was the way of things. They changed with the passing of time. And Steve Rogers was a man out of time. He was just as much of a stranger in this place as Loki was. Though he wasn't sure why, the thought comforted him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve learns of Loki's presence on Earth and Loki is presented with an opportunity to soothe his curiosity.

 

Steve hadn't planned on doing much with his Saturday. He'd woken promptly at five, gone for his daily run, and was showered and dressed by eight am.. He felt it was important to maintain some sort of routine. A semblance of order in a life that had been thrown into chaos ever since he was discovered beneath the ice and restored to mint condition. Captain America, back from the dead, ready to fight the good fight and stand up for American way of life. Right. Since waking up from his seventy year sleep, Steve had been bemused by the fact that the American way of life had changed a great deal. 

He had been sitting on his front stoop, sketching, when the call to report to S.H.E.I.L.D. came. It took the Soldier approximately five minutes to change into his everyday uniform, feed his cat, lock up the house and start up his motorcycle, the powerful purr of which, always bringing a small smile to Steve's face. 

Steve pulled out of his parking space. The ride from his house to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s midtown headquarters was about twenty minutes and he always took the time to soak in the sights and sounds of this bold and bright new city that had sprung up while he was sleeping.

So much had changed and yet Steve still felt his roots in this town. He even liked to ride through his old neighborhood on occasion, scanning the blocks, seeing what was the same, what wasn't. The Brooklyn he had known as a boy had changed to the point where it was nearly unrecognizable, but it was still home. Still the place where he and Bucky had gotten into all sorts of scrapes, all the while keeping a firm watch on each other's backs. Certain landmarks had even withstood the test of time and the sight of them brought Steve peace. 

Places like The Blue Coronet were still standing and Steve smiled as he recalled the misspent nights of his youth, sneaking into the jazz clubs and listening to music that made his heart thump and his toes tap. Bucky liked to flirt with pretty brown skinned girls while Steve would just blush furiously and fumble for words. After a while it was easier to just wander over and talk to the jazz players between sets. It was how he met Rudy Redfield, a trumpet player with a kind smile and a great booming voice.

 

“Look at you boy, you can't be but a buck, soaking wet,” said Rudy, sizing Steve up. “Bet this horn would steal the breath right outcha.”

“Can't really say I'm much of a horn player, Mr. Redfield. More of an admirer.”

“Oh, you a jazz fan eh? And that doesn't upset your momma and daddy, you listening to devil music with us here misfits?”

“I don’t have a ma and pa, sir. Just me and Bucky sticking together and trying to stay out of trouble.”

“Oh you'll find plenty trouble hanging out with that one there,” Rudy gestured to Bucky who was flanked by two pretty, laughing women. “Hope you can run when the going gets tough.”

“I've never been one to back down from a fight,” said Steve just a little proudly and Rudy's resulting laugh was loud enough that it startled him. 

“Oh, so you're a fighter, are ya?” Rudy's watery brown eyes sparkled with good humor. “And what, pray tell, is your record?”

Steve smiled sheepishly. “Not as good as I would like, but that hasn't stopped me yet. Even if I have to take my licks its better than letting the bullies think that I'm afraid of them. Because I'm not afraid.”

Rudy looked at him for a long moment and whatever he saw sin Steve's face seemed to satisfy him because he gave a small nod and said, “The world needs more people like you in it, boy.”

After that initial encounter, Rudy considered Steve a friend and the younger man began to spend a lot more time hanging around the smoky jazz dive, running errands and doing whatever else to earn enough to keep him and Bucky from starving. Not that that would have been an issue. Rudy's wife Sylvia always made sure both Steve and Bucky ate nearly to bursting whenever she was around. She would sit both boys at a table, put big plates piled high with steaming food in front of them, and not let them come up for air until she was satisfied that they'd eaten their fill. If anyone thought the presence of the two scruffy white boys was strange, they never said anything. The folks at The Blue Coronet were actually very friendly and it didn’t take long for Steve to understand that a lot of the fears that people had about Negroes were steeped largely in ignorance. Steve himself never cared about silly things like skin color and while he had been nervous at first....meeting new people was nerve wracking, the artistry of the place and its people spoke to the creative spirit living within Steve and he could not help but respond.

 

When Steve encountered the stern face of Nick Fury he wondered if the man was a jazz fan. He would ask, but not today. Today he would find out what was important enough to require his presence on his day off, but not important enough for him to suit up. 

“Captain, good of you to join us.” 

Steve gave a brief nod and took in the other faces in the room. The Avengers were all there, save Natasha, who Steve knew was on an undercover mission. Thor's presence surprised him. Last Steve had heard, The Thunder god had gone to Asgard to deal with a family issue. Steve wondered why he was back. 

“Good morning, Gentleman.” Nick Fury closed the door and made his way to the front of the conference room. “Now that we're all here we can get started.” Fury pressed the button on a small device in his hand and an image appeared on the large screen at the front of the room. A young man dressed in a dark suit was exiting a store. His jet black hair was combed back from a pale, angular face and aside from being the tallest person in the vicinity, the man looked pretty normal. Fury continued. “It appears that we have been visited by another resident of Asgard. The man in the picture is Loki Odinson. He is the brother of our very own Thor Odinson. The same brother who sent a giant robot down to New Mexico to kill Thor and nearly destroyed a town in the process.”

“And why isn't said brother locked away where no one can find him?” Tony asked.

Thor's blue eyes darkened and something looking like hurt flashed through them. “Loki has already been punished for his deeds,” he said quietly. “Since his release he has committed no further crimes.”

“None that we know of anyway,” said Fury. “Apparently the god of Mischief has decided to duck out of Asgard and holiday here on earth.”

“So kick his ass back to Asgard,” said Clint. 

“We would if we could find him,” said Fury. “It seems that even though Heimdall can see Loki here on earth, there are times when he can't.”

“What do you mean 'can't'?” asked Tony. “I thought this Heimdall guy was all seeing.”

“Loki possesses magics that can keep him from even Heimdall's sight,” said Thor. “It was how he was able to travel to Jotunheim without anyone noticing. It was how he was able to do a lot of things.” 

“Have there been any reports of strange activity?” asked Steve. “Weather anomalies, strange creatures, widespread bad luck?”

Fury frowned. “Bad luck?”

“Loki's a trickster, a prankster. If he wanted to cause trouble, I would think that looking for signs of mischief would be a good place to start.”

Thor laughed. “You are a wise one Captain. You do not even know my brother and yet you have taken his measure. I am proud to be shield brothers with one so astute.”

Steve cleared his throat and hoped he wasn't blushing. “It's no big deal. I just did some reading after I found out that the Thor from legends was actually a real guy. Figured I'd brush up on my mythology.”

Fury gave Steve an appraising look. “Excellent, Captain. Your knowledge may come in handy since Loki was last spotted near your neck of the woods.” 

Fury hit the button again and another image came on the screen. This time Loki was sitting at an outdoor cafe, one that Steve recognized from his running route. Loki's eyes were down and his long, elegant hands were wrapped around a large, steaming mug. It was a good shot on the photographers part and Steve's fingers twitched beneath the table. Someone like Loki would make an excellent subject for an artistic piece. 

“Since watching for Loki from above is no longer a reliable method, we are counting on you all to keep an eye out for him. Maybe even do a bit of patrolling in your respective areas of the city.”

“And if we find him?” Steve asked.

“You are to proceed with caution and notify S.H.I.E.L.D. immediately. You'll be met with reinforcements and hopefully Loki will allow himself to be brought in with no issue.”

“Director, my brother has not actually done anything wrong.”

“And he won't,” said Fury in that reasonable way that could be almost annoying. “Not if we can find him before he decides to create a bit of mischief for shits and giggles. You said yourself that his sanity is in question and it was your own father who sent you here to inform us of Loki's arrival.”

Thor frowned. “Loki and our father have always had a complex relationship.”

 

If even half the legends were true, complex did not even begin to describe Loki and Odin's relationship.

“Yes, well, they can sort it out when Loki is delivered back to Asgard,” said Fury. “Which will hopefully be soon.”

 

A week went by with no further sign of the god of Mischief. Steve wondered if Loki had simply moved on but Thor was convinced that he hadn't. Since the briefing, Steve had doubled the the radius of his morning run. He had also taken to riding his bike around at night on the off chance he might spot the Trickster but so far, nothing. Steve hoped that things would remain quiet. The last thing the city residents needed was some sort of epic battle between Loki and the Avengers on the streets of New York. They'd been through enough in recent years.

 

****

 

Loki managed to change his mind several times since that morning and he had no doubt he would change it several times more before he finally decided on a course of action. He'd known since he saw the flier hanging in the coffee shop that this might be his only chance to approach the Captain, unimpeded, but that didn't change the fact that Loki was still hesitant to make the connection. What if the soldier shunned him, or worse, attempted to engage him in battle? Did Captain America know of Loki's exploits? Did he already know of Loki's presence in Midgard? 

He hadn't exactly been careful about his concealment, only going to the trouble of hiding himself two thirds of the time, mostly when he was in his hotel room clipping news articles about Captain America and the Avengers. The morning newspaper that was included among the room's amenities had proved invaluable. The walls in the main room were nearly covered at this point.

It was dumb luck that he'd found out about the art auction. Loki had begun going to a small cafe near the hotel and on one such visit, he'd caught sight of Steve's name on a flier. It was among a sea of other fliers, easily missed if Loki hadn't spent the last few weeks training himself to spot the name. A place called The Drawing Center was holding an auction to benefit children's health research. The drawings of none other than Steve Rogers would be included in the lots and, once again, Loki was thrown by Captain America's ever growing complexity. In addition to being a warrior, a hero and a champion for the downtrodden, Steve Rogers was also an artist. Would wonders ever cease? 

 

The desire to meet this multifaceted person burned within Loki. He needed to know if this type of being truly existed or if it was all a clever trick to fool the masses. Loki knew a little something about trickery. He needed to speak with Steve Rogers and see what was behind the persona that shined so bright it almost hurt to look at it. 

That settled it. Loki would attend the auction. He would reveal himself to the leader of the Avengers and hope for a positive outcome....or at least closure. After tonight he would know if Captain America was truly all that he seemed. And if he was, whether or not he would be willing to bestow some of his inherent good will on a fallen Prince in desperate need of a friend.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Loki encounter each other at the art auction and their night ends up heading in a direction neither could have anticipated.

 

 

The rain was coming down in sheets but that did little to deter the cultured masses from converging on the small Soho gallery in hopes of taking home a little piece of of history. When Steve had offered to donate several pencil and charcoal drawings to an auction benefiting children's cancer research, the gallery staff had been ecstatic. He had been happy to do it, especially after making his rounds at the local children's hospital. The Soldier had fought to keep his emotions in check as he took in all those little angels who, even with their movements dulled by pain medication, were bright eyed and excited as Captain America walked in the room. 

He'd given out toys and signed autographs, posing for pictures as worn out looking parents cheered on from the sidelines. Their tired eyes had spoken volumes and Steve had been reminded of his own mother who sat by his bedside, valiantly holding it together as her little boy struggled through his latest round of illness. The parents of sick children were to be admired for their strength and Steve was sure to tell each of them that as he grasped their hands and even hugged a few of the more affectionate ones. 

Such interactions were how he came to meet the Sanderson family. Jeannie Sanderson and her husband Rick were with their son, Aidan, who was doing battle with Leukemia. Aidan smiled brightly when he saw Steve and the Captain was sure to take several pictures with the youngster and his parents. Afterward, Jeannie had given Steve a big hug and thanked him for making her son's day. 

“You are a saint for doing this, Captain.” Jeannie's eyes glistened beneath the harsh fluorescent lights.

“Please, call me Steve, and I'm more than happy to do it. I wish I could do more.”

 

As it turned out, Jeannie was a local artist who volunteered her time at local galleries. One of which was a place called The Drawing Center, a fine arts institution that focused solely on the exhibition of drawings, both historical and contemporary. The artist in Steve had been delighted to discover that such a place even existed, especially in his own back yard, and soon he found himself visiting the place at least once a week, talking art with the staff and enjoying the creations that hung on the gallery walls. 

When Steve was informed that there was going to be an auction to benefit cancer research, he had been glad to contribute several drawings, mostly of the New York from his time but there had been a few contemporary ones as well. A lone figure playing the saxophone on the subway platform, an older couple sitting on a bench in central park, and even a few of the Avengers. Steve figured those in particular would attract buyers and he wanted to do his part to ensure a good return. It was for sick kids, after all.

 

So there he stood, dressed in a suit that-though custom made especially for him- still felt ill fitting, and trying not to seem to out of place among the cultured types. He took occasional sips from a glass of champagne he didn't really like and listened to people from a variety of backgrounds discuss the various art disciplines and merits of modern drawing techniques vs. more traditional ones. Steve smiled and nodded and contributed when he felt he could add to the conversation, but his heart just wasn't in it. He would always have a burning passion for art but he simply wasn't used to this level of critique. He preferred to let the work speak for itself. To soak it up the inspiration and let the art move through him, an extension of one's own soul spread out across a canvas as opposed to something to be picked apart. It was meant to be shared, yet deeply personal at the same time. Stark would probably be at home in a setting like this, hobnobbing amongst the know-it-alls to see who truly did know all, or maybe not since the number of blueprints on display were few in number. 

Steve chuckled as he thought of the son of Howard Stark, who was perhaps the most jarring thing about waking up in the twenty-first century. Well, that and the dizzying levels to which technology had reached. That the two went hand in hand was not at all surprising to Steve. The Starks were men of vision. It was only right that Tony share Howard's love for science and technology. 

Upon waking, Steve had been forced to run alongside the speeding train of progress and grab on wherever he could if he didn’t want to be left behind in the dark ages. And by dark ages, they meant the time that had formerly been home for Steve. A time that felt as if it had barely passed in his mind. 

It had been a little over a year since then, Steve had learned how to use a computer, navigate the internet, work a cell phone and operate the electronic appliances that were sprinkled throughout his home. 

Tony Stark had initially (and wrongly) assumed that because Steve was from a period where these things did not exist, he would be slow in learning to use them, but Steve's mind had always been sharp. It was his body that couldn't keep up, and thanks to Dr. Erskine, even that was no longer the case. The serum had gone far in enhancing an already formidable intelligence and Steve was able to process information at astounding speeds. During the early days of their acquaintance, Tony had tossed Steve a stack of computer manuals as a joke but the joke had been on him when Steve had come back two weeks later knowing not only how to take his computer apart and put it back together again, but also how to navigate Tony's own computer systems with ease. 

“Huh,” the genius had said, his brown eyes assessing him with an unreadable expression. “Guess you are more than just a pretty face, after all. Good to know.” 

From there, the friendship had blossomed and Steve found himself enjoying Tony's company, even if he could be a bit of an ass sometimes. Fortunately, Pepper was always there to help reel the billionaire back to tolerable levels when he got too far gone. Steve envied Tony that, though he would never admit it aloud. 

Pepper Potts was an incredible partner, willing to put up with Tony's many issues, and who still loved him, even when he was at his most unlovable. Pepper kept Tony grounded and her lovely smile helped chase back the haunted look Tony sometimes got in his eyes. In his quiet moments alone, Steve often wished for the same.

 

Steve had tried his hand at dating. A little bit, anyway. But modern women both baffled and troubled him. They were much bolder than they were during his time. Much quicker to make both their desires and their displeasure known and Steve didn't think he would ever get used to the current tones of human sexuality. 

Captain America had slept clear through the sexual revolution and had gone from an age of relative modesty to an age where one could see naked flesh on network television during prime time. It was an age of 'Girls gone wild'. Steve was shocked (and just a little titillated) when Clint and Tony had showed him the videos. It was a time of endless amount of digital smut as well as sex shops where staffers stood outside wearing bright smiles as they handed out prophylactics and coupons. 

Steve had been at a loss when a employee of one such establishment had handed him several condoms and a pamphlet on safe sex as he passed by. The young man, who couldn't have been older than twenty, was also blond but with silky looking hair that fell lightly into his eyes. Steve might have been staring a bit too hard because the young man given the Soldier a wink and a suggestive smile, informing him that his name was Dennis and if Steve ever wanted to go for drinks, he usually got off at seven.

Attitudes about homosexuality had most certainly changed a lot since the forties. Once upon a time, a man would have been jailed or institutionalized for getting caught with another man but things were different now. There were gay pride parades and openly gay politicians. Same sex couples could get married in certain states and even the military had decided to modernize by no longer excluding openly gay recruits as well as extending benefits to their partners. Steve was glad that things had evolved in such a way because it helped him come to terms with his own attraction to men. He learned that being bisexual did not make him a sicko and though Steve had nearly had an aneurysm when he had gone to pride day(so much flesh on display and the Soldier had seen no less than four uncovered dicks), he was glad that should he choose to pursue a relationship with a man, it would not be treated as an illness or perversion as it would have been in his day. 

 

Steve was snapped out of his musings by the voice of the auctioneer announcing that they were about to get started. He moved toward Jeannie and Rick and took a seat beside the couple. Jeannie informed him that his drawings would be put up early on to give people an opportunity to bid high while they still had lots to spend. Steve ducked his head and told her that they weren't really anything special. 

Jeannie laughed. “You are being way too modest for his own good, Steve. Your work is phenomenal.” 

Apparently the art patrons were inclined to agree because his pencil drawings of downtown New York and Central Park sold for far more than he thought they would. There had even been a bidding war when it came time to auction off the drawings of the Avengers. 

When a charcoal drawing of Thor went on the block, a voice with an accent that Steve had never heard before rang out across the room, clear as a church bell. 

“Five thousand,” the rich, almost lilting voice said and Steve felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. He turned in the direction of the bidder and froze when he met a pair of piercing green eyes. Loki! 

Steve's entire body tensed as he took in the man who had been alluding both S.H.I.E.L.D. and Asgard for the past few weeks. The artist in him wanted to say that Loki's eyes were a pale Spring or maybe Dartmouth Green. He would probably go mad trying to recapture the shade on canvas because they were unlike any green eyes he had ever seen before and they were focused on him like a laser beam. 

 

Loki was dressed in a charcoal gray suit with a forest green shirt and tie. His dark hair was slicked back from his pale, angular face and to Steve he looked like a model or a very attractive business man. For reasons he was not yet ready to examine, the Soldier's heart picked up speed as he met that unfathomable gaze. 

The patrons murmured amongst themselves as Loki's was the highest bid of the evening. The auctioneer smiled and acknowledged the dark haired man with a nod. “Five thousand, going once, twice, sold for five thousand dollars to the gentleman in the fifth row.” He banged the gavel and just like that, a pencil drawing that had taken Steve an obscenely short amount of time to draw sold for thousands of dollars. As if sensing Steve's bemusement, one side of Loki's mouth lifted in a small smirk. Those eyes. Those damn eyes were challenging him! 

Steve's hands itched to render the expression on paper and he would, the first chance he got, but for now he had to act like he was still paying attention to the auction as opposed to Loki. He couldn't risk engaging the Trickster in a room full of innocent civilians so he was forced to sit and wait for Loki to show his hand. Fighting back the urge to fall into Captain mode, Steve turned his attention back to the podium, grateful that no one around them seemed to notice the exchange between Loki and himself. 

 

When the last item in the auction sold, everyone stood and made their way to an adjoining room in hopes of partaking of refreshments and more champagne. So as not to arouse suspicion, Steve allowed himself to be pulled in amongst the crowd, all the while scanning the room for Loki. Unfortunately, the fallen Prince with the haunting green eyes had made himself scarce, leaving Steve to mingle with the other patrons who had purchased his drawings. He smiled and shook hands and listened to them gush about how much of an honor it was to have something drawn by the famous Captain America. The conversations began to run together and after a while and Steve began to think he'd missed his chance to apprehend the Trickster. The memory of those green eyes and that infuriating smirk were still bright and vivid in Steve's mind and Steve wondered why Loki would show up at an art auction of all places. What did he hope to accomplish?

 

After another thirty or so minutes, Steve could no longer remain at the gallery knowing that Loki was probably still close by. He said his goodbyes to Jeannie and her husband as well as the Drawing Room staff and stepped out into the cool, moist night. He took in a lungful of evening air. For as nice as it was to be around people who shared his passion, Steve was happy to be out of there. The rain that had been peppering the city all day had slowed to a very light drizzle and he opted not to put up his umbrella as began to make his way toward his car. 

At first, only the clicking sounds of Steve's shoes on the asphalt and the occasional passing car could be heard. He had taken a dozen more steps when his was joined by a second set of footsteps. They seemed to come from nowhere, echoing his along the sidewalk. Steve halted and so did they. 

“Look,” said Steve, turning on his heel. He narrowed his eyes. “I know who you are so you may as well come out, Loki.” By all appearances he was alone on that section of the street. Steve's raptor's gaze scanned the area as he took quiet breaths through his nose. 

“Aww, you're no fun,” a voice purred in his ear and Steve spun around, quickly dropping into fight stance. Loki stepped back from him, eyes twinkling and pale hands held up in mock surrender. “Relax yourself Captain. I did not come here tonight looking for a fight.”

“So it is you, then?” asked Steve. 

Slender shoulders shrugged, and with his long black trench coat and silver tipped walking stick, even that simple movement looked somehow elegant on the Prince. “I have gone by many names over the centuries. The Liesmith. The Silvertongue. The Trickster. You, however, may address me as Loki.” 

Loki gave a toss of his head and Steve would have almost described it as an almost foppish movement had the Trickster not exuded a deadly grace that was anything but. He was staring at a passing cab when he said. “No doubt you have been informed of all of my recent exploits or how else would you know of me?” He tapped the cane on the ground twice, looked out into the night with an unreadable expression and then returned his gaze to Steve. “I'm sure Thor gave you quite the earful.”

“He told us enough,” said Steve, meeting the gaze unflinchingly. Enough to make Steve leery of the man in front of him. So far he had held off calling in S.H.I.E.L.D. or his team but his communicator was in the pocket of his slacks and he could have it in hand in less than a moment if need be. “Though that still doesn't explain you being in Soho spending five thousand dollars on pencil drawings of your brother.” He raised an eyebrow at the other man. “Did you come all this way to see little old me?” 

Steve had meant it in jest, he sometimes joked when he was nervous, but when Loki's eyes sharpened, Steve's chuckle died in his throat. His brow furrowed slightly. “You're here to see _me_?” Loki gave a small nod. “Why?”

The other man seemed hesitant, uncertainty making him look younger, more vulnerable than arrogant. “If I told you, I doubt you'd believe me.”

“Try me.”

Loki sighed. “I need someone to.......talk to and from what I have gathered, you seem to be a good choice for such things.”

Loki could have turned into a wild turkey right then and Steve would not have been more surprised. “You wanna talk?” he asked, dumbfounded. “To me?”

“I believe that's what I said,” said Loki, eyes rolling.

“But don't you have Thor?”

Loki's eyes hardened. “No Captain, I do not. Nor do I have any other family. I am on my own in the aftermath of the All father’s punishment. Now will you grant me audience or not?” 

“Both Asgard and S.H.I.E.L.D. are looking for you,” said Steve. “They're worried you might be up to something.

“Ah, yes. The shadow security force operating within your government. Well you can assure them that I have no desire to cause trouble in this realm. I came here seeking refuge from harsher places, nothing more.”

“I’m sure there are more official channels you can go through if you'd like to arrange a visit to earth,” 

Loki smiled. “Conventional means are so boring, Captain. I'd much rather do things the unconventional way.”

“Yeah well rules are often in place for a reason. I would think that that would have been apparent to you once you were released from your imprisonment, however short it was.”

Loki's eyes flashed deadly and for a moment Steve wondered if the Trickster was going to strike out at him, but the fire petered out quickly and Loki seemed to actually deflate a little. 

“Not that you are entitled to any sort of explanation but you should know that Odin is notoriously creative with his punishments and time is a very malleable thing.” Loki's eyes looked haunted then and Steve found himself wondering what the fallen Prince could have gone through to put that look there. 

He immediately pushed the stirrings of guilt and empathy down, however, because if Thor was to be believed, Loki was a master of deception and his hold on sanity was tenuous at best. Among his other crimes, the trickster had nearly wiped out an entire race of creatures without so much as a second thought. Whatever Odin had done to punish that kind of behavior, chances are it was justified.

“Look,” Steve said, feeling the first stirrings of irritation. “I don’t know what game you're playing here, Loki but I'm in no mood. Maybe this would be better if you just let me take you into S.H.I.E.L.D..” 

“What makes you think it's a game?” Loki asked, green eyes wide and innocent. Steve wasn’t buying the act for a second. “I have troubled no one on this night, and I even helped contribute to a noble cause by purchasing that picture of my oafish brother for far more than it was worth. Surely that has earned me some sort of temporary reprieve in your eyes.”

“It’s not my call to make, and besides, why me? You don’t even know me.” 

“I have taken the time to get to know you, Captain Rogers, even if from afar. Out of all the members of the Avengers, it is you who seems to have the best understanding of the frailties of men. You who can best comprehend what it is to be lost among those who claim commonality and yet none is found. Perchance I came here seeking counsel with the one person who might …..understand.” Loki's eyes shimmered with something otherworldly as they regarded Steve. “The man out of time who struggles to make sense of a world that is no longer his, surrounded by those who see him more as a representation than an actual being. Perhaps I felt a sort of kinship there. Is that so unbelievable?”

“Well, yes,” said Steve, even as Loki's words echoed through his mind like a gong. Never had anyone summed up his situation so accurately. He attempted to recover himself. “It does sound pretty unbelievable, to be honest. You're a magic wielding Prince from a place that isn’t even supposed to exist. What could you possibly have in common with a Soldier from Brooklyn? It's not like I'm anything special.”

“Perhaps not,” Loki said with a smirk. _That damn smirk!_ “But your perspective is a unique one and I would still have words with you on the off chance that something could be gleaned from the conversation. Something that could possibly help me work through the darkness that seems to have overtaken what was once my heart. I have seen you sitting among broken men, lending an ear to their tales of woe and despair, and I would ask that you grant me the same. If by the end of that conversation, I am satisfied, I will go willingly to S.H.I.E.L.D..”

Steve sighed. “It sounds like you need a shrink.”

Puzzled, Loki tilted his head to the side, reminding Steve of a dog listening to high pitched sounds beyond human hearing. “What does being made small have to do with conquering ones demons?”

Steve laughed because he couldn’t help it. For a moment he had forgotten that he was talking to an alien Prince from beyond the stars and that there were bound to be language barriers. Bound to be things lost in translation. 

“Nevermind,” he said. Steve rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Look, I’m probably going to regret this but I'm willing to take you at your word. If you truly are just looking for someone to talk to then we can go sit down somewhere. That being said, if I find out that you're just bullshitting me and this is all part of some scheme, I'm not going to be very happy. Are we clear?” Steve let his gaze go hard and Loki seemed to understand that this was not something the Soldier was doing lightly. Steve not being very happy would most likely manifest itself in the form of his boot on Loki's face. 

Loki gave him another one of those maddening smirks and said, “Crystal clear, Captain.”

“Steve.”

“Pardon?”

“If we're going to be sitting down and having a civil conversation, you can at least call me Steve.”

“Very well....Steve.” Loki seemed to taste the name, testing it out on his tongue. “Is there somewhere we can go to talk? As much as I love the outdoors, we are without shelter and the rain is beginning to return with force. I am kept dry with the aid of magic but I'm sure you would rather not ruin that lovely suit of yours.”

“Uh, yeah.” Up until that moment, Steve hadn't even been aware of the rain. He opened his umbrella and the Prince eyed it with fascination. He then turned said fascination onto Steve, who tried not to squirm beneath it. Loki had called his suit _lovely_. Steve did his best not to be thrown by the sort-of compliment. “I know a place not too far away,” he said. “I'm guessing you magicked yourself here?”

Loki smiled. “I took a taxi actually.”

Steve chuckled. “A taxi. Of course. Well I was smart enough to bring my car out tonight so if you'll just follow me, we can get out of the rain.”

 

 

About three blocks from Steve's house was a small jazz club called The Blue Note. Steve had come across the establishment while looking for places to spend his time when he wasn't working out or doing hero related things. It was dark and tucked in, and the owner, a retired musician named Leroy Redfield, was the son of none other than late jazz great, Rudy Redfield. When Steve discovered the relation he'd been over the moon. It was a rare thing to find living connections to the past. 

Thankfully, Leroy turned out to be an amiable fellow that Steve had liked immediately upon meeting. He had a big, boisterous laugh like Rudy and the same kind brown eyes. Whenever possible, Steve would drop into the club for a few sets and he and Leroy would talk long into the night about life, jazz and the old days. There were even a few anecdotes about Steve that had been passed on to Leroy from his father. 

 

Tonight must have been his night off because Leroy's daughter Cecile was working the front of the house. Cecile was a lovely woman whose easy smile and cheerful demeanor reminded Steve of Rudy's wife Sylvia. They even had the same smile. 

Cecile looked up from the podium when the front door opened, that lovely smile spreading across her smooth brown face when she saw Steve. “Hey there Captain. What brings you to our neck of the woods this evening?” 

“Hey there, Cecile. I just came from an art thing and now I'm looking to relax and listen to some good music. Who's on stage tonight?”

“Oh we've got a great four piece band out of Mississippi on stage right now. Charlie and the Blackbirds. After that there's a Duke Ellington tribute band.”

“Sounds like my kind of evening,” he told her. Steve was currently reacquainting himself with music and a place where he could sit and listen to the old standards from his time was a rare find indeed. 

Grabbing two menus, Cecile led the two towards the back of the club where there were several u-shaped booths along the wall. She knew that Steve preferred to hang at the back of the club, away from the crowd and directed them to the last booth in the row. 

A single candle, encased in a blue hurricane glass, sat on each of the tables, bathing the area in subdued, chromatic light. Steve removed his trench coat as well as his suit jacket and draped them across a part of the seat where neither he nor Loki would be sitting. Loki followed suit and the two of them folded themselves into the booth, giving Cecile polite 'thank yous' when she gave them their menus. 

“I'll give you gentlemen a few minutes to get yourselves settled before I send Troy over to take your drink order.”

Steve thanked her and the woman beamed at him, fluttering her thick, dark lashes before heading back to the hostess station.

Loki's green eyes glittered in the candlelight and Steve did his best not to stare. They truly were his best feature and that was no small thing considering how attractive the Trickster was overall. Not that Steve was attracted to him or anything. Loki just had a nice face, was all. As an artist Steve could appreciate the beauty of things. It as no different from admiring a sunset or a beautiful painting.

_Sure._

 

It would probably be fine once he managed to draw Loki's likeness on paper. That usually helped when Steve got an image in his head that refused to leave the forefront of his mind. 

“I take it by your level of familiarity with the hostess that this is an establishment you frequent.” 

Steve nodded. “Good music, good clientele, and even though the menu is small, the food here is excellent. Were you hungry?” 

Loki gave him a long, indecipherable look. Finally he said, “I suppose I could stand to eat something,” and Steve spent the next five minutes explaining the entrees that the Blue Note offered. He had tried all of them more than once and by the time Troy came back, Steve had decided on the blackened sea bass with risotto while Loki opted to try the salmon ravioli.

Troy made his notes. “And to drink?”

“Scotch,” responded Steve. “Neat.” 

Thanks to the serum Steve could no longer get drunk but he still liked a good glass of scotch with his jazz so he ordered it whenever he came to the club. Loki informed the waiter that he would be having champagne and Troy scurried off to put their orders in. 

“So,” Steve said slowly, hoping to avoid potential awkward silences. “What's on your mind?”

Loki's gaze was intense when he said, “Several things, at the moment, but I guess we will start with the basics.” He folded his long, elegant hands in front of him. “Other than my dastardly deeds and I'm guessing a bit of Midgardian mythology, how much do you know about me Captain?” 

“Not a lot,” Steve admitted. 

There had been the reading Steve had done online after his first meeting with Thor (hardest hug of Steve's life), coupled with the details that Thor had given them at the briefing, but Steve suspected that that did not even begin to cover the enigma that was Asgard's fallen Prince. Loki was like a moon. Pale and mysterious. He possessed a darkly enchanting air that could never be properly conveyed through photographs or second hand accounts. But Steve didn't say any of those things. Instead he said, “I know you're a Prince of Asgard.....and up until recently, widely seen as a myth. You're also Thor's little brother.” Steve added the last with a wry smile. Loki snorted at that and the soldier chuckled. “You're skilled at magic-another mind boggler, by the way-and you might have a bit of superiority complex.” 

Loki didn’t refute any of it and, in fact, looked amused. “I suppose that's a start but for the sake of this conversation I shall fill in a few of the missing pieces.” Loki looked over Steve's shoulder as Troy approached with the drinks. He waited until the waiter had removed himself before speaking again. 

“The Aesir are a warrior class. Might is celebrated. Worth is measured in feats of strength and heroism. Even artistic endeavors are based around the thrill of battle. The glory of the fight. Paintings, tapestries....songs. You have had the pleasure of meeting Thor so you've had a sampling of what the people are like. Well magnify that a thousandfold and you will have Asgard, only it's so much worse than even that.” Loki took a sip from his glass and Steve tried not to stare as a pink tongue darted out to catch the remnants on his lips. 

“I’m not sure if you've noticed,” Loki said with a slight smile after setting the drink back down on the napkin “but there are some very distinct physical differences between myself and my brother, who more accurately represents the physical ideal where we are from. As a result, I was never held in as high of a regard. I was always the small one, never quite as strong or fast as Thor or his friends. I also tended to shy away from the more physical aspects of play and could often be found in my own chamber, up to my elbows in scrolls and books of magic. 

Needless to say this did not always go over well and I often found myself on the receiving end of taunts from Thor's rock brained friends and sometimes even Thor himself. Were you to ask them, it was all in jest, but the sting was real enough. Fortunately Frigga made it a point to remind me that I was just as special as they were, even if not in the same ways.” 

Loki's eyes looked fond then and Steve recalled how he would cry to his mother when the other kids wouldn't let him join in their fun. Steve was always too frail and small and had the tendency to get winded before the games even got going. It had been his mother who had gotten him his first sketchbook in hopes that Steve would find fulfillment in something that wasn't so taxing physically. 

The idea that Loki had had similar issues with being the smallest among his peers disturbed Steve because it made the Trickster seem more normal and less like the dark-hearted creature that the briefing made him out to be. Just the knowledge that there was someone else who knew what it was like to be the frailest one in the bunch did something to Steve. He sipped his scotch and tried not to be distracted by the thought, which was easier right then because their food had arrived. 

After setting the dishes down before them, Troy asked if there was anything else they needed, to which Steve responded, 'No, thank you' and then he and Loki were alone once again.

“This really looks great,” Steve said, readying himself. He looked over to Loki who was eying his own plate with trepidation. “What's the matter?”

“I must confess, I have not had the pleasure of sampling much of your Midgardian cuisine. Since arriving, my fare has consisted mainly of fruit, chocolate and champagne. This dish is unlike anything I have ever seen before.”

“Oh, well then you're in for a treat,” Steve speared a piece of ravioli with his fork and then held it out to Loki. “They use really fresh salmon to make the ravioli. Try it,” he said. Loki gave him and odd look and that's when Steve realized he was about to feed Loki a piece of pasta. The gesture was weighted by a level of intimacy that hadn't been there a moment before. 

Wondering if the rush of heat that flowed up toward his face was about to set his head on fire, Steve made to pull his arm back, but Loki was quick and leaned in to accept the morsel, his lips wrapping around Steve's fork and pulling back just slow enough to turn that rush of heat into a damn inferno. 

“Mmm,” Loki chewed slowly, savoring the flavors, his eyes never leaving Steve's. “that is good.” His pink tongue darted out to wipe some errant cream sauce off his lower lip and Steve damn near dropped the fork. 

_What the hell are you doing Rogers?_ Bucky's voice flashed through Steve's mind and the soldier cursed the timing. Of all the moments for Bucky to manifest in Steve's mind and act as his conscience. He knew if the real Bucky were there he would be trying to shake some sense into his best friend. 

Loki was classified as an enemy of earth and yet here they were, having a civil conversation over a great meal with a melodic jazz backdrop. It almost felt as if they were on a.....

_Don't say it._

Date.

Sounds of appreciation were coming from Loki as he tucked into the ravioli and Steve resolutely ignored them and started on his own meal. He also tried not to think about the fact that Loki's mouth was just on something that was now in his mouth, but now that the flood gates had been opened, Loki's mouth was all Steve could think about. How it was a perfect cupid's bow and how the bottom lip just begged to be sucked on. Steve wondered if Loki liked kissing because he sure as hell did. He pictured himself kissing Loki. Pictured his hands tangled in those inky black waves. 

_Get it together Rogers. This is not the person you wanna be having those kinds of thoughts about. You just met him two hours ago for God's sake. He should be sitting in a holding cell at SHIELD right now, not munching ravioli while you perv on him from across the table._

“Is something wrong, Captain?”

“What? No! Of course not.”

“Care to share what is weighing so heavily upon you then?” 

_Oh he doesn't wanna know what you're thinking about, does he Stevie?_

“I guess I was just thinking about how surreal this is,” Steve said, drowning out his internal voice. It wasn't completely untrue. He was, after all, sitting across from what was essentially an alien from outer space. Back when he was hooked on pulp comics about the cosmos, Steve had wondered what it would be like to meet an alien. So far, this encounter was shaping up to be pretty pleasant. Scarily so, in fact. 

Loki looked like he didn’t quite believe Steve's explanation but didn't pursue the matter. Instead, he continued eating his ravioli and the two took a small break from their conversation while they worked their way through the meal, only speaking up to make small comments of appreciation here and there. 

Steve let the music coming from the stage wash over him and realized with horror that he was kind of enjoying himself. Loki, god of Mischief, currently sought by both S.H.I.E.L.D. and Asgard, was turning out to be pretty good company. 

“So,” Loki said, setting his fork down beside his plate and wiping his mouth with a napkin. “You now know that in my youth I was small and bookish. Does that surprise you?”

“Not really. You seem like the cerebral type. I could see you teaching Norse Mythology at some university like NYU. As far as the size, thing, I kind of know something about being the little guy.”

Loki smiled. “Ah yes. According to the television, you were not always the prime physical specimen that you are now.”

“Not even close to it,” Steve laughed. “I was always very small for my age and frequently sick. I had a hard time coming up because of my poor health and I could never join in the fun and games out of fear of having an asthma attack. I spent a lot of time sitting in bed drawing pictures. When I _was_ well enough to go outside I usually ended up attracting bullies. It was how I met my best friend, Bucky. He saved me from a group of boys who were more than willing to beat the snot out of the wheezing kid.”

“And what would put you on the path to being Captain America?“ Loki asked. “What happened to that boy to make him think that he could become a soldier?”

“It was the war,” said Steve simply. “By the time I had reached enlistment age my parents were long dead and I wanted to help. I've always hated bullies and there were no bigger bullies than the nazis. 

I did everything I could to enlist but they just kept rejecting me. By sheer dumb luck I ended up meeting a man named Dr. Erskine and agreed to let him experiment on me. I was so desperate to get into the army at that point that I was willing to try anything. Lucky for me the experiment worked.”

“Lucky indeed,” said Loki. “And what happened to this doctor? Did he make other super soldiers?”

Steve sighed heavily “No. He was killed right after my procedure was completed and took the secrets of the serum to the grave.”

“How unfortunate. So you are truly one of a kind then.”

“I guess you could say that, though I was once told that everything special about me came out of a bottle.”

“Well whoever said that was obviously a fool,” said Loki. “Were it just your physical prowess that set you apart from others I would never have sought you out. You are also a man of principle and strong character. Two things, I'm afraid, that are severely lacking on both your world and my own.”

Steve didn’t know what to say. Loki had complimented him again, only this time more directly. Finally Steve settled on, “thank you,” and hoped that his blush was not very visible in the darkness of the club. 

The two finished the remainder of their meal and the table was cleared. Steve's scotch was gone and he working on a glass of club soda while Loki had opted for another glass of champagne. 

The Trickster seemed to be thinking about what he wanted to say next so Steve went back to quietly observing him. 

After a few moments Loki gathered his thoughts and said, “Did you know that it was my mother who crowned me king of Asgard?”

“No, I did not.”

“It was right after Thor had been banished to Midgard. Odin had gone into Odin-sleep and with both he and Thor gone it was up to me to take the throne and lead. Needless to say, I did not do a very good job of it, and a series of poor decisions led not only to the destruction of the bifrost but an entire race's near extinction as well.”

“The frost giants?”

“Indeed.”

“Why did you want to destroy them?”

Loki sighed and his mask of beautiful arrogance slipped a little. Weariness peeked around the edges, making the Trickster look older; more tired. When he spoke his voice was softer than it had been a moment before, his eyes less focused on the present. “The land of Jotunheim is a cold and desolate place. A place of of ice and craggy, snow capped mountains that house massive caves. It is a vast and mighty wilderness and home to the Jotun, or Frost Giants. 

The Aesir tell their children tales of the evil monsters who roam those frigid lands. They speak of them as little more than savage beasts who live to terrorize the surrounding realms, Asgard especially.” 

pale Spring had darkened to Phthalo as Loki stared sightlessly forward, remembering. 

“Jotunheim and Asgard had come together in battle many times over the centuries and on one such occasion, Odin happened upon a babe who had been left to die in the cold. The moment he lay his hands on the child, it's blue flesh began to turn pink. The All-father decided right then that he would take the babe back to Asgard and raise it as his own alongside his other child, and the knowledge of the babe's true origins would remain a closely guarded secret. The baby would eventually grew into a young man. A young man who frequently wondered why he was small and dark while his father and brother were large and fair.” 

Moisture gathered in Loki's beautiful eyes and the Trickster's voice had grown so small it dwindled to nearly a whisper. Were it not for Steve's enhanced hearing he probably wouldn't have heard it at all. 

“And then one day, as that young man stood in his father's vault, he laid his hands on something else taken from those frozen lands and the truth of what he really was flowed across his skin like water, a secret no longer willing to be hidden.” The sadness that was laced within Loki's voice was so profound that Steve found himself reaching across the table and taking the other man's hand in his own. The skin was cool to the touch but far from cold. 

Loki looked down at the hand that covered his and then back up at Steve and there was a moment of understanding between the two. 

At the heart of Loki's anger was a pain that went soul deep. Steve wondered if this was the first time he had ever spoken of these things out loud. He gave the hand a light squeeze and Loki's eyes slid closed, a single tear escaping and sliding down his cheek. Steve wanted to wipe it away with his thumb but refrained. He had no idea how Loki would react and things were already getting far too cozy between them as it was. 

After several moments, Loki seemed to gather himself and gently pulled his hand away from Steve's. A clean corner of napkin was used to dry his eyes and the rest of the champagne was drank in a single swallow. 

“You don't have to continue,” Steve said softly, but Loki shook his head quickly. 

“No, it is important that someone else understand this, Captain. Steve. I have carried these things within me for too long and even though repeating them is more painful than I anticipated, it is actually helping me.” He gave Steve a watery smile and the soldier found himself smiling back.

“At that point you must have had a lot of questions,” Steve said, getting the conversation back on track for Loki's sake. “Were you able to find satisfactory answers?”

“Sadly no. In the middle of my confronting Odin he fell into Odin-sleep and by the time he reawakened, it was far too late for conversation. When next I saw him he was holding onto Thor who was, in turn, holding me as I dangled over the abyss. 

In those final moments I tried to tell him that all that I could have done it. I could have brought peace to the realms. I wanted to tell him that I was just as mighty as Thor, just as deserving to sit on the throne, but Odin's response had been, 'No Loki' and in that instant I felt the darkness settle into my heart completely. As I dangled from the bifrost bridge, I actually contemplated letting go, letting the void take me, but Odin wasted little time and quickly managed to pull both Thor and myself back from the edge. Since then there have been many moments when I wished they'd let me fall.”

Rather than dwell on that incredibly dark moment, Steve opted to push forward and asked, “What happened once they took you back to the palace?”

“Well, for starters, I was held down by Thor while Odin sewed my mouth shut. Of course, Odin covered up his grisly handiwork with a rather fashionable device so as not to offend his loyal subjects.” Loki took in Steve's horrified expression but continued to speak in an almost offhand manner. For his tone, he could have been describing a vacation he'd took. “The All-Father was right to do it, as I know many words of power. He couldn't have me uttering any of them. And be assured, I would have. 

I was eventually brought before the people of Asgard and the charges against me were read off. The Aesir jeered, some even threw things. They wouldn't have dared just a day before but I was no longer their king. I was merely a disgraced Prince and even that title was an illegitimate one since the truth of my lineage was no longer a secret.

I was then placed in the dyngja, a special cell that Odin had himself created. It is very small and only opens from the top. In this realm the closest equivalent is called an Oubliette. How's your french, Captain?”

“Oubliette means forgotten place.” Steve said quietly (his french was actually pretty good). The soldier had seen Oubliettes during the war, even pulled people out of a few of them, usually half starved and completely mad. They were among the worst type of dungeons and the idea that Odin had placed his own son into one made Steve's stomach turn.

“Very good,” said Loki. “Odin put me in a place reserved for people you want to forget about. He said it would be a fitting punishment since I wanted to be king of Asgard. He hoped that I would gain some perspective while spending time below the throne that I had so coveted. You see, the dyngja is located beneath the throne of Asgard's king. Directly beneath.”

“My God,” Steve had a brief flash of being back in Dr. Erskine's capsule, of how it was almost coffin like in its construction. During the procedure he had wanted nothing more than his freedom of movement back even as the pain of dozens of needles threatened to shred his body into a million pieces. It had been hell on earth and just the memory of it had Steve's dinner threatening to make a return visit. He fought back the nausea. “That is.....wow. That's pretty dark. Did Thor know of Odin's plan?” 

Loki laughed a mirthless laugh. “Of course he knew. Did you think that him knowing would have somehow made a difference?” Loki's eyes were hard then, like glittering chips of green glass. “Every punishment I have ever suffered at the hands of Odin has been carried out with my brother's full knowledge and often his help. There is nothing Thor will not do if Odin commands it.”

“And your mother?”

“Abides the will of her king,” Loki said simply. 

“You mentioned before that Odin's punishments need not be long to be effective. What did you mean by that? Was the dyngja more than just a prison beneath a throne?”

Loki raised a brow. “Ah, so you were paying attention. You are correct in your observation that the dyngja is more than what it seemed. Odin's prison is a thing of magic. I was told that I would have to remain within for eight cycles, the longest anyone has ever been confined. A cycle on Asgard is equivalent to what you would call a month. And before you scoff at my eight month sentence, understand that time works differently within the dyngja. It was created to heap many years upon its occupant in a very short span. A month for you would feel like a century to me. 

“So you're telling me you spent the equivalent of eight hundred years beneath your father's throne without food or light or even the ability to move? That’s not _justice_! Its cruel and unusual punishment.” Thor had seemed like a good enough guy but if this kind of thing was his idea of justice then Steve was going to have to seriously rethink his opinion of the man.

Loki looked amused. “Are you actually offended on my behalf, Captain?”

“It just seems a bit excessive is all. Immortal or not. How did you stand it without going crazy?”

Loki shrugged. “Meditation mostly. I have had a very long time to perfect the art. I locked my mind down tight and only used the bare minimum. Even that, however, gave me the means to think heavily about my actions and the events that led up to them.

“And did you have any life altering insights?”

“I’m afraid not,” said Loki. “It was more like an endless loop of my own personal failings being replayed over and over again.” 

“Well I hope you don't see approaching me as one. I’m actually glad you did.” Steve smiled hesitantly and Loki's expression grew thoughtful.

“You know, this is not at all how I envisioned this meeting going," he said. “You have managed to surprise me, Captain. A rare feat but one not at all unpleasant.” 

“I suppose I could say the same for you, Loki. You're certainly different than I imagined. Different from how you've been described.” _Better_ , thought Steve. He was in so much trouble.

Loki smiled softly. He looked over Steve's shoulder and said, “It seems that we have gotten so deep in our conversation that the world has moved on without us.”

Steve turned to see what Loki was looking at and frowned when he saw that not only had the band packed up and gone, but all of the chairs had been put on the tables. Steve checked his watch and was shocked that it was nearly 2am. He and Loki had been sitting in that booth for close to three hours. Steve had never had a dinner conversation that long in his life. He stood quickly, excused himself and walked over to the small office that was adjacent to the restrooms. 

Cecile sat behind the desk counting the days take and going over receipts. She smiled when she saw Steve in the doorway. “I was just about to let you and your friend know it was time to lock up. You two were so deep in conversation I didn’t want to disturb you. I figured I'd wait until I was done here.”

“I had no idea it had gotten so late Cecile or I would have paid the check sooner.” Steve reached into his pocket for his billfold but was quickly waved away. 

“Put your money away, Steve. My father informed me months ago that whenever you come here you are to be given the royal treatment, and that means all meals are on the house.”

“Well please give your father my thanks, and tell your chef that the food was outstanding as always. Also,” he produced several bills and dropped them on the desk. “Give that to Troy, will ya. I know waiters rely on tips and I wouldn’t want him to think that I didn’t appreciate the service.” 

Cecile laughed, shaking her head. “You are a real trip, Steve. I'll make sure he gets it when he comes in later today.”

“Thanks Cecile. Did you need any help locking up?”

“Oh you don't have to worry about me, Captain. My son should be here soon. Besides, you seem to have your hands full enough with that tall drink of water out there waiting for you at the table.”

“Oh,” Steve laughed, his face heating. “He's not my-I mean....”

“Say no more, Captain. None of my business. Just make sure that you be careful. Things have changed a lot since you and Rudy Redfield's time.”

Steve nodded at the truth in Cecile's words. “Thanks for the advice Cecile. You have a good night.”

“You too Captain.”

 

Upon exiting the Blue Note, Steve discovered that heavy rains of earlier that evening had returned full force. Steve didn't make a dash for the car, though he knew he should. He felt wired and anxious and strangely light. It was a good feeling and perhaps it was that that frightened the Soldier. He looked at Loki, who had for some reason chosen not to keep himself dry with magic. The two stood face to face, Loki's gaze boring into his, and that strange feeling within Steve seemed to intensify. 

The pouring rain plastered Loki's inky black hair to his head and the sides of his face. His eyes gleamed like jewels beneath the streetlamps. The Trickster looked almost feral as he panted out puffs of steam and at that moment Steve wanted something. Something he knew he had no right to want.

“I should be taking you to S.H.I.E.L.D.,” said Steve over the din of passing cars and water hitting concrete.

“I know,” said Loki. His eyes were challenging, but beneath that challenge lay something else. Hope maybe? “I did promise to go willingly if you agreed to speak with me, and you've done that. I suppose you'll be calling for reinforcements now.”

Steve's heart was beating like a kettle drum in his chest. The next few moments could determine the direction his life went in for years to come, but the idea of not acting was more than he could bear. 

The feeling that Loki's presence was coaxing out of him was not something Steve was in a hurry to rid himself of. It was reckless, it was dangerous, and some might even call it treasonous, but at that moment, something in Steve Rogers wanted. No. It craved. And what it craved currently stood staring at him, getting wetter by the second.

Steve exhaled, the decision made. “No,” he said. “I’m not calling anyone.” 

This was crazy. This was more than crazy. This had a potential interplanetary incident written all over it but for the life of him, Steve didn't care. He gazed into those unfathomable green eyes and knew that he was already compromised. “In fact,” he said. “I would really like it if you came home with me.”

Loki goggled but recovered quickly. He straightened his spine and his face slipped back into that mask of casual arrogance. “Are you sure that is what you want Captain? I do not want to be accused of corrupting your virtue later.”

“It's Steve, remember, and yes,” he exhaled a shaky breath. “I'm sure.” He took Loki's hand in his and traced tiny circles across the back of the Trickster's palm with his thumb. 

Loki's eyes remained riveted on the gesture for a full minute before he finally met Steve's gaze and said, “alright.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> smut time ;)

 

The rain continued to batter the city but the lights of the landscape could still be seen as they stretched out in long lines across the near darkness of Steve's living room.

The two had barely made it through the doors when Steve had pulled a surprised Loki into his arms and gone in for a kiss. There was no hesitation in his movements as his large hands came up to grip Loki's shoulders. Sopping wet outer coats and suit jackets hit the floor and the two attempted to devour each other as the sounds of smacking lips and breathy moans filled the air, charging it with a sexual energy that was almost as touchable as their needy flesh. 

Steve nipped and sucked at Loki's lips, silently asking for further entry into the Trickster's mouth with a quick sweep of tongue across his bottom lip. The gesture sent a shiver down Loki's spine and his lips parted in invitation. His tongue darted out to meet Steve's and both organs proceeded to slide along each other in a slippery dance that each took turns leading.

The pleasant feeling that Loki had gotten from conversing with Steve was nothing compared to the one he got from kissing him. He smelled of rain and musk and spices and Loki wanted to be covered in that scent. He rubbed himself against Steve like a giant cat and the Soldier groaned, burying his hands in Loki's hair and driving his tongue deeper into his mouth. 

Loki's back hit the wall with a thud and he hadn't even been aware of moving backward. His hands moved beneath Steve's rain soaked shirt and undershirt both, greedily roaming across the wide expanse of Steve's well muscled chest. Loki wanted to touch every inch of this magnificent creature before him but figured a dozen copies of himself might upset Steve, so he took what he could, savoring the smooth feel of Steve's bare skin beneath his hands. 

The Soldier's body was hard and unyielding and so very warm as it ground him against the wall. Loki surrendered gladly to that heat, basking in it as strong hands roamed his body, opening his mouth wide as Steve plundered around inside. _Yes Captain,_ Loki thought dizzily as Steve sucked on his tongue. _Take all that I have. Feast on me._

When the need for air overrode the need to be joined at the lips, Steve broke the kiss and began planting wet, lingering ones along Loki's jaw and down his throat. Strong teeth sank into the flesh between Loki's neck and shoulder and a lightning bolt of pain laced pleasure shot from that spot directly to the Trickster's cock. He cried out and grasped the Soldier around his broad shoulders, grinding their hips together. Loki was rock hard beneath his trousers and was glad to know that the Steve was also sporting a pretty impressive erection. 

Never in his wildest dreams would Loki have put himself in this situation but here he was, undulating against none other than Steve Rogers, also known as Captain America, the paragon of virtue and all things good. One thing was for certain, Steve was no blushing novice. He definitely knew what he wanted and how to go about getting it. His touches were gentle but insistent and his skilled hands slid along Loki's skin with confidence, leaving a blazing trail of fire in their wake. 

Loki's blood began to sing a song of concupiscence and his skin ached beneath far too many clothes. He wanted nothing more than to be naked and writhing beneath Steve, but even as that delicious thought threatened to make him cum right then and there, an old anxiety flickered within him. If this was going to proceed any further Loki had to make a choice and in the end he opted to take a chance. 

“Captain, I should tell you,” Loki said breathlessly, trying not to let the kisses that were being placed on his neck distract him. He steeled himself. “There are certain aspects to my anatomy that you should be informed of if we are to proceed further.” 

Steve froze against him and pulled back just far enough so that they were face to face. Though the Captain looked positively debauched with blushing cheeks and kiss swollen lips, his vivid blue eyes were clear and focused. 

Loki took a deep breath, knowing that his revelation could end this encounter. “I am what you Midgardians would call a hermaphrodite,” he began. “That is to say I am in possession of both male and female genitalia. It is the way of all Jotun as there is no difference in what would be perceived as male and female in Jotunheim. It ensures survival in such a harsh environment. Normally I would just hide that aspect of myself using magic but in the interest of transparency,” he gave a wry smile at that. “I thought that you should know.” And Loki had hoped that for once he could be himself, but he didn’t say that part out loud. 

 

****

Steve felt it however when he saw the flicker of trepidation that danced in those hypnotizing eyes. So many people had let Loki down. So many had rejected him for whatever reason and Steve did not want to be one of those people. He wanted this. He wanted Loki, whatever that meant. “I appreciate you sharing something so deeply personal,” he told the Trickster. “I admit that that's a new one for me but this is night full of firsts, I guess.” Steve made sure Loki saw his eyes and the sincerity in them. “It doesn't change anything,” he said. “I still want this.” 

Steve was treated to the adorable sight of Loki biting his bottom lip, a tentative smile trying to bloom on his face. “Truly?”

Steve smiled and cupped his hands along Loki's jaw. “Truly.” He kissed those delectable lips and Loki groaned into his mouth, his whole body arching into the act. 

 

****

 

Steve wrapped his large arms around Loki and pulled him even closer, crushing their bodies together until the Trickster could barely move, not that he wanted to be anywhere other than pressed against the long line of Steve's body. 

Loki had never been claimed in such a way and it was enough to make the emotions swell within him. He fought the feelings down viciously and instead chose to focus on the moment. He reached up to loosen his tie but large hands stopped him. 

“I want to do it,” Steve said, his voice a deep rumble and his eyes so intent that Loki stifled a shiver. 

Loki dropped his hands to his sides and watched as Steve loosed his tie, slid it from around his neck and tossed it over his shoulder. Steve's hands then moved to his shirt. Each button undone with care and then the garment was removed from his body with deliberate slowness. It followed the tie into oblivion. 

He hissed through his teeth when Steve's hot mouth closed over his left nipple. 

“Gods, that tongue of yours is going to be the death of me,” Loki rasped. He gave up trying to stand on his own and rested more of his weight against the wall, lifting his hips slightly when Steve unbuckled his belt and began to push his slacks down his legs. 

Steve went to his knees and removed Loki's loafers and socks. He placed light kisses on Loki's exposed hips as he helped him step out of his pants. Blue eyes gazed raptly up at green and Loki's breath caught in his throat as he observed the need and want swimming in their oceanic depths. 

Without warning, Steve stood and scooped him up in his arms. He ignored the Trickster's squawk of protest and carried him, bridal style, up to his bedroom, kicking open the door, and gently placing him on the large bed that dominated the sleeping space. 

Along the far wall were four large windows that stretched nearly floor to ceiling and the streetlamps cast an eerie, rain spattered glow over Steve's body as he began to quickly remove his clothing. 

If Loki had thought Steve was attractive while dressed, nude he was absolutely stunning. His body was densely muscled without being overwhelmed by it and his broad shoulders tapered down to a narrow waist and powerful thighs. Loki's eyes could not help but be drawn to the impressive cock that jutted up, high and proud from between Steve's legs. He wanted to touch it. He wanted to taste it. He wanted it inside him in the worst way. Loki heard little needy noises coming from somewhere and realized with alarm that they were emanating from him.

Steve took a small device from the nightstand and pointed it at something out of sight. Music similar to what they had listened to earlier in the evening began to flow through the room and the brassy notes of a dozen horns provided the perfect backdrop for the events that were quickly unfolding.

He climbed onto the bed and immediately pulled Loki into his arms. He kissed Loki's lips, his chin and his throat. He slid his tongue over Loki's collar bone and worked his way down the Trickster's torso, occasionally stopping to drag his teeth over sensitive flesh and coax a needy whine from Loki's throat. 

He shuddered and clutched at the sheets as Steve worked him into a frenzy with his hands and mouth. When the Soldier reached his groin, Loki tensed, but Steve gave him a reassuring kiss on his inner thigh and gently pushed his legs apart. 

 

****

 

“It's alright,” Steve whispered against his skin. “I told you, I want this. I want you. All of you.”

Loki mewled softly but relaxed inch by inch as Steve stroked his inner thighs reassuringly. Loki's cock was hard and curving upward toward his navel, precum already dribbling from the tip. Steve gently dragged his fingertips up the underside and swiped his thumb across the flushed head, bringing it back to his lips so that he might know what Loki tasted like. It was a sharp flavor with just a hint of sweetness and Steve wanted more of it. He pushed Loki's legs open wider and it was then that he saw the small, fleshy cleft below Loki's penis. The pale skin was soft and delicate looking with pearls of moisture glistening on the surface. Steve traced along the folds, gently parting them. Loki gasped softly. 

Steve had never seen anything like this before and while some might have put off, he felt nothing but wave after wave of desire as he explored the body of this beautiful creature. He eased the tip of his finger into Loki's slick hole and began gently stimulating the area with tiny thrusting motions. Loki's pants came quicker, his chest rising and falling rapidly as the spikes of pleasure worked their way through him. 

Steve enjoyed the response he was getting from Loki with his fingers so he decided to incorporate a few bold licks of his tongue as well. After only a few moments of Steve's mouth on him, Loki was lost in the sensation, his back arching off the bed as he moaned and writhed, hands carding through Steve's hair, gripping the short strands tighter with each new surge from his groin. The Soldier had performed oral sex on women before and though this was similar, the addition of a penis made for an interesting dynamic. Steve could admit that he had been taken aback momentarily when Loki made his revelation but he'd reconciled it quickly. There was so much about Loki that mystified him that this seemed almost normal. _This_ was something Steve could wrap his mind around because he'd heard of it before, even if not necessarily with people. This wasn't magic, or mind bending, otherworldly technology. This was nature, and there was no shame in it.

Adjusting his position in order to gain leverage, Steve renewed his efforts and drove his tongue deeper into Loki's slick lined hole. His own cock was throbbing but he refused to give it any attention just yet. Right now it was all about Loki and Steve intended to make sure he pleasured the Trickster well and thoroughly. 

_****_

Loki's arousal was rapidly approaching dizzying heights as he lifted his hips wantonly off the bed, offering as much of himself to Steve as he could. It had been so long since he'd felt the intimate touch of another and even then, it had been nothing like this. Steve's lips and tongue and the feel of his rushing, thrusting fingers was so incredible that Loki couldn't help the litany of unintelligible words that began to spill from his lips. He begged for more with both mouth and body as Steve pulled off of his cock with a loud pop and resumed kissing and lightly sucking on the soft, fleshy folds of his pussy. 

Between kisses and sucks, Steve lapped his tongue around inside Loki's moist hole. A hole that was now clenching and unclenching with the desire to be filled with something larger than Steve's fingers. Loki gasped as his hips were lifted higher off the bed and gravity pulled his legs even wider. The shocks of pleasure were almost painful as they radiated outward from his center and as Loki's nerves sizzled beneath his skin, he was almost certain he was on the verge of coming apart. 

“Pleeeeeease,” he groaned. The need to feel Steve deep inside him was almost overwhelming. 

Steve took the hint and his legs were put on strong shoulders as the Soldier took his straining cock in hand. He pushed in with a single, forceful thrust and both gasped at the sudden rush of new sensations that flooded them. Steve dragged his cock almost completely out and then repeated the motion, impaling Loki on his shaft, the passage eased by the thick layer of slick that Loki's body was producing. 

Loki moaned deeply, flexing his vaginal muscles as he dug his nails into Steve's sweat covered biceps. Nothing he had ever experienced could compare to the feeling of Steve's cock inside him. It was fullness and wholeness and pleasure absolute. He groaned, relishing the pulsing heat of Steve's cock against his inner walls as the soldier settled into him. Steve gave him a moment to adjust to his considerable size, a fine tremor shaking the hero's broad, muscled body as he fought to maintain control. That Steve was being conscious of his needs, even in the midst of heightened arousal, warmed him. He signaled Steve with an encouraging roll of his hips and the Soldier gave him a lust drunken smile. Running his palms down Loki's thighs, he wasted no further time. 

_****_

Even as he was tossed around the sea of his own pleasure, Steve observed the amazing creature in his bed, carefully filing away Loki's every expression and reaction to the constant, deep penetration of his determined cock. 

Loki's body was so plaint beneath his, taking all that the Soldier gave him. He took Loki in his hand-already slick with Loki's juices-and began pumping in time with each his own forceful strokes. Loki's breathless whimpers filled the air and Steve answered them with his own passionate groans as the first sparks of climax started at his groin and radiated outward until even the soles of Steve's feet were tingling. He wasn’t going to last much longer with the silky slick feeling of Loki that was just this side of being too much. Powerful muscles hugged his length in a vice like grip, drawing him ever forward, ever deeper until Steve was unsure where he ended and Loki began. 

“You are so incredible,” Steve panted, because in the fractured light, lost in a haze of pleasure and need and want, with his midnight black hair fanning across Steve's pillow like spilled ink, Loki really was. 

Loki's kiss swollen lips stretched into a loopy smile and Steve pulled the long legs from his shoulders, wrapping them around his waist so that he might lean in and taste what he suspected was a rare phenomena. He pulled Loki's bottom lip into his mouth and sucked hard, a low growl trickling from his lips as their kissing reverted back to hungry and devouring. 

Steve's cock moved like a piston, hammering Loki into the bed with a ferocity that he would have never attempted with a human partner. The rumble in Steve's throat became louder and his rhythm faltered as his hips began to jerk erratically with the force of his orgasm. The sudden shot of uncut pleasure undid the last of his control and as Steve Rogers shattered into a million sweat soaked pieces, he was dimly aware of the sound of his own voice screaming out in ecstasy and drowning out the brassy sounds of the jazz 

Loki's climax was not far behind his and with two more pumps of his cock, he ejaculated between himself and Steve, coating their bellies and chests with hot semen. Steve licked the cum from Loki's skin and thrust his tongue into the Prince's mouth, not yet ready to disengage himself. Loki didn’t seem to be ready either and long legs tightened their grip around Steve's waist, pulling him closer. They were joined by long arms around his shoulders. 

The two were still feeling every bit of their post orgasm euphoria as soft kisses and caresses were exchanged and Steve settled his weight comfortably between Loki's legs. A contented sigh breezed past his ear and Steve's eyes, which suddenly felt very heavy, drifted shut. Sex with Loki had been the most mind shattering experience of Steve's life and he wasn't quite sure if all of those pieces of himself had returned to him. Until he was certain, he was content to stay right where he was, riding out the waves of his orgasm and basking in the warmth and scent of his new found addiction. 

_****_

A tender kiss was placed on Loki's temple just before Steve slowly withdrew his cock. Both gasped and Loki tried not to focus on the suddenly hollow feeling. 

Steve gently untangled himself and sat up on his knees, favoring Loki with a sleepy, sated smile. “I think a bath is in order,” he rumbled, dragging his fingertips over Loki's thigh. 

“Mmm, a bath sounds like a lovely idea.” 

With a final touch, Steve got out of bed and made his way toward the bathroom. Loki watched until that glorious backside retreated from view and then stretched his long body across the bed, savoring the delicious ache between his legs. 

In all his long life he had never had a lover as attentive or satisfying as Steve Rogers. Not that there had been many. Loki had always seen sex as a means to an end, a way to satisfy an itch or curry a favor. In some cases, Loki had even used sex as a way to ensure loyalty, but never did he imagine it could be the transcendent, purely pleasurable experience he'd just had. 

Somewhere in the back of Loki's mind, a nagging voice quipped about how the feeling would not last but at the moment, Loki was far too content to care. Instead, he gazed across the room to where Steve could be seen moving around the bathroom. The Soldier's well defined muscles rippled smoothly beneath sun kissed skin that was still flushed from their encounter. Hair that was always so meticulously styled on television stuck up at odd angles on his head. Captain America looked like he'd been involved in something naughty and Loki took a good amount of satisfaction from knowing that it was he who helped muss the pristine Captain up so thoroughly. 

A small smile played over Steve's full lips and the sight made Loki's pulse quicken. How wonderful would it be to belong to this amazing man? To spend every single night basking in his love and then falling asleep to the rhythmic beating of his heart. To wake up at his side. Loki wondered what Steve looked like with his hair and skin bathed in the light of the morning sun. No doubt the sight was enough to inspire a host of ballads sung by the most talented bards. 

The sound of running water stopped abruptly and Steve came padding back into the room, halting at the foot of the bed. 

“Ready?” he asked, that beautiful smile visible even in the semi darkness. 

At first Loki didn’t think he could move, but the opportunity to be pressed against Steve's body was just too good to pass up. Fighting against the lethargy, Loki swung his legs over the side of the bed and pushed himself up. Steve's hand was warm as it slipped into his and Loki gave it a gentle squeeze as he was pulled to his feet and led to the bathroom. 

_****_

The water was just warm enough. Steve had taken the liberty of adding a bath oil to it that smelled vaguely of citrus and pine. It had been a present from Pepper, part of a basket that she had given him as a housewarming gift. From here on, Steve would be unable to smell it without thinking of shared baths with beautiful demigods. He watched as Loki got into the water first, the large spa tub providing more than enough room for Loki's long legs. Steve slipped in after, and those same long legs wrapped around his torso, drawing the soldier backward until his back was resting against Loki's chest. 

Steve closed his eyes, sighing as Loki's wet fingers slid through his hair and began massaging his scalp. He ran his palms along the smooth, milky white skin of Loki's legs and let himself drift off, a deep calm settling over him for the first time in a very long while. Neither he nor Loki spoke for several minutes, both content to relax in companionable silence, as they listened to a combination of rain, city sounds and a soulful jazz melody that continued to play in the other room. 

Steve was the first to breach the quiet. “Will you stay the night?” he asked. His was voice was thick with the beginnings of sleep. 

The hand moving through his hair stilled. “I can, if that's what you wish,” Loki said quietly 

“It is.” 

The hand started moving again. “Then I shall stay.” 

Steve smiled, his eyes still closed. Other than sharing a bed with Bucky (strictly platonic), Steve had never spent the night with anyone before. He liked the idea of spooning his body up against Loki's and wondered if Loki liked eggs. 

The bath lasted a little while longer and then both took turns washing eachother with gentle, attentive strokes. They didn't bother getting dressed and after a quick dry off, climbed beneath Steve's cool cotton sheets with their bodies coming together almost immediately in a tangle of arms and legs. Though they were both exhausted, they spent the next several minutes kissing sweetly and rubbing their limbs together beneath the blankets. When consciousness became too tenuous a thing to hold on to, Steve gave Loki a final kiss and positioned himself so that they lay shoulder to shoulder. 

“Goodnight Loki,” he said quietly, unsure if Loki's even breathing meant that he was asleep or just really really relaxed. 

The response was a sleepy one. “Goodnight Steve. And thank you.” 

“For?” 

A long arm wrapped around Steve's middle as Loki snuggled in close. “For everything.” 

Steve wasn't quite sure what everything meant but he knew he was glad to be able to provide whatever it was Loki needed. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One helluva Saturday

 

Steve's first instinct upon waking was to make sure that the previous night had not been a dream. He turned his head and was rewarded with the sight of sun rays softly caressing the bare shoulders of a still sleeping Loki. 

In sleep he looked so much younger, his features were smoothed, his brow frown free. Steve smiled as he leaned over to place a gentle kiss on Loki's upturned palm. Though his fingers flexed slightly and a soft sigh escaped his lips, Loki remained sound asleep.

Still smiling, Steve climbed out of bed and walked over to his dresser. After slipping on a pair of boxer shorts and a clean white t-shirt, he quietly exited the bedroom made his way down to the kitchen. Once there, Steve added fresh food and water to the cat's dish, turned on the coffee maker and proceeded to get the necessary ingredients for omelets from the refrigerator. 

 

****

 

Something warm and furry brushed along the edge of Loki's jaw. Frowning, the Trickster opened his eyes and found that Steve had been replaced by a large white cat.

“And who are you?” inquired Loki, holding his hand out to the animal. “A housemate of our good Captain?” 

Large, amber colored eyes surveyed the hand curiously. The cat gave Loki's a tentative sniff and then proceeded to push it's entire head into Loki's palm.

“Ah,” said Loki, scratching the animal behind the ears. “Just as affectionate as your owner I see. Where is he, by the way?”

The cat gave a meow that Loki hoped meant 'downstairs' because that was where he was headed. Flinging back the sheet, he slipped from the bed and went to the bathroom to relieve his bladder. Upon his return to the bedroom, he spied a blue robe casually thrown across the back of a chair. Loki slipped it onto his shoulders and sighed. It smelled like Steve.

The cat meowed and Loki huffed. “Oh I'm just borrowing it, is all.” 

 

****

 

Steve had just finished chopping the peppers, mushrooms and tomatoes when Loki came padding into the kitchen wearing his robe and holding his cat. He couldn't help but smile. “I see you found Snow. I was was wondering where he got off to.”

“More like he found me,” said Loki, setting down Snow, who immediately went for his food dish. “Imagine my surprise when it was him that greeted me as opposed to you.”

“I wanted to get breakfast started. If you'll just grab a seat it won't be long.” Steve gestured to the breakfast bar and Loki plopped himself onto a stool. 

There was a slight blush to the Trickster's cheeks and his hair was tousled to the point where it looked like he'd gotten into a fight with his pillow. Where the robe fell open, Steve could see the lovebites that stood out in stark contrast on Loki's pale skin. He looked as if he'd been thoroughly worked over and Steve thought it was fucking gorgeous. Knowing he'd had a hand in wrecking the Trickster made Steve's cock twitch.

 

Loki frowned. “Why are you staring at me that way?” 

Steve smiled and turned back to his preparations. “No reason.” He cracked several eggs over a bowl and began whisking them. “How'd you sleep?”

“Surprisingly well actually. Your bed is quite comfortable.” 

Steve placed the bowl of eggs aside and retrieved a plate from the cabinet. He deposited the plate in front of Loki. “Glad to hear it.” He set an empty mug beside the plate. “I didn't know how you took your coffee. I think I have some teabags in the depths of the cabinet if you'd prefer that.”

“Tea would be lovely, thank you.”

Steve grabbed the copper teapot from a nearby shelf. When S.H.I.E.L.D. had informed him that he was clear to leave the base and establish his own residence, Steve had been ecstatic. Thanks to years of back pay from the army and the generous salary he was drawing from S.H.I.E.L.D., money was no longer an issue for Steve. It was the first time he could ever claim such a thing. He'd poured over hundreds of real estate listings from all over the city and finally came across a wonderful property not far from midtown. It was a bit large for a single man but Steve wanted the space. He'd spent his early life in cramped little places and then seventy years trapped in a block of ice. It was time for a change. 

The brownstone had needed a bit of cosmetic work but Steve had been up for the challenge and was able to handle most of the work himself, much to Tony's chagrin.

“I still don’t understand why you wont get a nice, modern place,” whined Tony as he stared up at the brownstone. “Or at least let me hire a team of contractors to help you make this place habitable.”

“It's already habitable and I prefer to work on my own house, thank you.”

Tony had huffed but respected Steve's wish to restore his own home. Not being able to leave well enough alone, however, the billionaire insisted on sending over one of New York's top decorators to help Steve furnish the place. 

Christoff Hargrove, a rather flamboyant gentleman with flame orange hair and a penchant for black turtlenecks, had had some pretty outlandish ideas in regards to Steve's place and he and the soldier had clashed initially. In the end though, with much glowering on Steve's part and Pepper's mediation, they managed to come to an understanding and something that both men seemed to agree on was that Steve would have a kitchen that he could cook a proper meal in. Something modern but not so much that it was sterile and devoid of warmth. Christoff had called it _Transitional_ style. Steve just called it a kitchen. 

 

By the time he was done putting the kettle on, the frying pan was hot enough and Steve tossed in the chopped vegetables. He added a bit more olive oil and spread everything out so it could cook evenly. 

“So I was thinking,” he said, still looking down at the sizzling vegetables. “barring emergencies, I'm off work for the next two days and I was hoping you might want stay for the weekend.” When he didn’t get a response after a minute, Steve glanced up from the pan. 

Loki's eyes were no longer foggy from sleep. They were, in fact, wary as he sat there in Steve's robe, waiting for breakfast. “Just last night you wanted to turn me into S.H.I.E.L.D. and now you wish me to stay the weekend.” There was just a trace of suspicion in his voice. “Why?”

“Well,” said Steve, turning back to the pan. “I had a really nice time last night and I’m just not in a rush for it to end is all.” The vegetables were just about ready. “And as far as turning you in to S.H.I.E.L.D,” Steve sighed. “I've been doing some thinking about that. If what you say is true and you truly have no desire to cause any trouble here then,” Steve looked at Loki and saw that the other man was watching him closely. “I don’t see why we need to involve them. They'd just send you back to Asgard and you've already said you don't want to go back there. 

“That much is true,” said Loki. “And what do you think your team or your director would say if they knew you were sitting here with a monster, planning to spend a weekend together?” 

Something in Loki's tone made Steve look up from the pan. The Trickster's back was stiff and his eyes were riveted to the empty plate in front of him. 

“I don't consider you a monster Loki. Especially not after last night, and no, I’m not just talking about the sex,” he said quickly when Loki's head came up, elegant eyebrow raised. 

Steve poured the beaten egg mixture over the vegetables as he continued to speak. “I can't say that I condone the thing's that you've done but I do recognize that you were in a lot of pain when you did them. Does that excuse your actions, of course not, but you _have_ paid for your crimes. You've paid and then some.” His stomached knotted when he thought of how. “If you truly are seeking a different path this time around then that’s earned you a second chance in my book.” Steve used the spatula to pull the eggs around the pan and continued. 

“I can't speak for the other Avengers but whether they cheered or jeered at the idea of us spending time together, I don't make a point of living my life based on how others feel. I walked into this situation with my eyes open so what happens from here on out is up to us. Not my team...or Nick Fury.” 

Steve removed the pan from the stove and walked it over to the breakfast bar. With a turn of the wrist, the omelet slid effortlessly onto Loki's plate, folding neatly in half thanks to the special coating on the pan and just the right amount of oil. Loki looked down at the perfect looking omelet, obviously impressed. Steve smiled. Sometimes living in a world of modern conveniences and nonstick cookware had it's upside.

***

The kettle began to whistle and Steve went about fixing the tea while Loki dug into the piping hot omelet. In his head, Loki awarded more points to the good Captain as cooking seemed to be another thing he excelled at. Half of the fluffy, vegetable stuffed dish was gone before he even bothered to come up for air. 

Steve walked toward him with the mug and for the first time, Loki noticed it bore Captain America's insignia. The Soldier looked amused. “I take it the omelet meets your princely standards.”

“It will suffice,” said Loki in a haughty tone, knowing full well that he could eat another one. 

Steve laughed and oh how Loki loved that sound. Soft lips ghosted over his temple and the Trickster's eyes slid closed as he nearly melted into Steve's touch. The feeling of warmth ended all too soon when Steve withdrew and went back to the stove to prepare an omelet for himself. 

As Loki watched Steve perform the ridiculously domestic task, he realized he was not yet ready to give up this feeling of closeness. The Captain was like a fire he could warm himself at after spending days wandering the frozen lands of Jotunheim. Loki could see himself coveting that warmth, needing it more than he needed to breathe and that was a dangerous thing. It was not wise to get attached to anyone, no matter how wonderful they seemed, and especially not a mortal. Thor might have that luxury but Loki didn't. Too many harsh lessons had been learned in too short a time and Loki would do well to remember them if he wanted to protect himself. 

Besides, who was to say that Steve wanted anything more than a lost weekend in a god's arms? Soon enough he would be back behind his blazing star, fighting his righteous fight, and Loki would be.....Where would Loki be? He had already been the man who would be King. The man who had grasped at real power and held on for a few precious seconds, even as it burned him alive. In the end, what had that gained him save the knowledge that he would forever remain on the outside? The knowledge that for all of Odin's talk of family, he was still more than willing to imprison a son that he claimed to love.

But in this house, in this primitive, backwater realm, the burden that Loki had borne since finding out the truth about himself had ceased to matter. Loki was free to simply, be. He picked up his fork, the possibilities spinning around in his head. 

“Supposing I were to take you up on your offer,” he said finally. “What did you have in mind to keep me entertained? Surely you don't plan on keeping me well fucked and confined to the bed for the next two days. Though I can hardly say that I am opposed to the idea.” 

Steve smiled bashfully as he plated his breakfast. “Actually I have a box of DVDs that are supposed to help bring me up to speed on the happenings in cinema over the last seventy years. If you like, after we finish up here we can watch a movie or two.” He sat down on the other side of the breakfast bar. “I've also got a chess set if you're interested in playing a few rounds. After that,” the soldier shrugged, “maybe we can see about that whole getting you 'well fucked' thing.” Steve didn't so much as blush then and Loki fought not to squirm under the intensity of his wide eyed gaze. It was a gaze that could be intimidating just in its level of honesty.

Loki swallowed. “Sounds as if you have the day well mapped out.”

Steve's smiled and suddenly he was less intimidating, more boyishly charming. “I believe having at least some sort of a plan makes for a more successful mission. So will you stay?”

“And when the two days are over, what then? Will I be allowed to go of my own free will, or will the shackles of justice find their way around my wrists?”

“I think we both know that mere shackles wouldn't hold you, and I told you already that I wasn't going to bring you in. So long as you don't cause any trouble, of course.”

“Not that I'm complaining, but I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the great and virtuous Captain America going against an order from his superiors.”

“It wouldn't be the first time,” said Steve, a slight edge to his voice. “I'm not damn robot. I make my own choices. The papers paint me out to be some saint, some perfect soldier when in reality I'm just a man. And as a man, aren't I entitled to go against expectations if I so choose?”

Loki smiled and placed his hand on top of Steve's. “Of course you are.” He rubbed his fingers along the back of Steve's wrist and the soldier's eyes slid closed. “I have angered, you,” said Loki soothingly. “That was not my intention.” He deftly traced a rune on Steve's wrist and watched as the tension drained from his shoulders. It was nothing major, just something to draw the tautness from his body. “I know all too well how it feels to want to be master of your own fate, even as others insist on writing it out for you.” Steve's eyes opened and they were filled with affection. Loki sank his teeth into his lip to keep from smiling like a buffoon.

“Stay with me,” said Steve. It didn't sound much like a request and Loki felt a small thrill at the authoritative tone of Steve's voice.

He could only respond, “yes,” and as the word slipped over Loki's lips, he knew his fate had been sealed. 

****

 

After breakfast, the pair cleaned up the evidence of their repast and retreated to the bedroom. Steve turned on the television and queued up a movie entitled _Psycho_. The feature had come highly recommended by Natasha and while Tony and Clint both had given the Black Widow funny looks, Bruce had just laughed and said it was a good choice. 

By the end of the film, Steve was plenty disturbed while Loki found himself identifying with poor Norman, pointing out that the desire to please one's parents can lead one to do strange things. 

“I suppose,” said Steve. He pulled the covers up over their bodies and the two cuddled closer as the second movie started. 

The second film was something with lots of car chases and explosions but it failed to hold the pair's interest. By the halfway point, cuddles had become kisses and before long, Loki was panting as Steve played his body like a favorite instrument. The Soldier's strong, muscular arms held his body firmly as he placed kisses on and around Loki's mouth, all while whispering endearments and telling him how beautiful he was. It was sweet and intoxicating and though Loki would deny it vehemently, it felt good to be worshiped and adored in such a way. 

Steve's reverent yet firm touch worked in perfect sync with his warm, wet mouth, sending more of those delicious shocks through him. He spread his legs wantonly, silently begging Steve for contact and the Soldier was happy to oblige. Pulling away from Loki's lips, Steve moved down his body, dragging that talented mouth across the shivering flesh. He kissed across Loki's belly with a maddening slowness that made him want to cry out in frustration. Captain America might be a formidable opponent with his special shield and nearly unmatched physical prowess but it was his lips and tongue that were the real weapon. Said tongue slid over Loki's skin, searing him. He writhed and moaned as Steve's teeth grazed his hip, yelping when they sank deeper and traced toward his inner thigh. Loki spread his legs wider and smiled when he heard Steve's low, lust filled groan.

“You're already so wet for me,” the Soldier said huskily. To prove the point he slid a thick finger into Loki's slick lined entrance. 

A startled cry of pleasure ripped from Loki's throat and Steve answered it with a passionate moan that conveyed his own need and desire. The finger that lazily penetrated Loki was withdrawn and replaced with a hot mouth that threatened to take him apart at the seams. Surrendering to the pleasure, he bucked upward into that hungry heat as it devoured him, impaling himself on the strong tongue that danced inside of his hole. “Oh Steve,” he panted. “I need your cock inside me. Pleeease. Please fuck me.” The words were said without shame, the need to feel Steve within him far outweighing any sort embarrassment at his own wantonness. 

Pulling away from his feast, Steve rose to his knees, larger than life, his glorious cock jutting upward, tenting his boxers and making promises to drive itself straight to Loki's very core. The Soldier's eyes were fever bright as he gazed down at Loki, his red, swollen lips still glistening with the remnants of the time spent between his legs. Steve's hand moved to his cock and a smile that could only be described as predatory spread across his boyishly handsome face. He began to stroke himself through the thin fabric. “Is this what you want?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Loki breathlessly, the need to have Steve inside putting him almost on the verge of tears.

Steve's grip on his cock tightened visibly as his breaths became harsher. He was just as aroused as Loki was and practically vibrating with sexual energy. “Open wide for me,” he said, his voice a low rumble. It was rich with the command befitting his station and Loki could do nothing but obey. 

Hooking his arms beneath his knees, Loki spread himself wide, his own cock hard and dribbling furiously. Steve quickly removed his boxers and got into position. Loki raised his shoulders off the bed so that he could watch his lover enter him. He bit his lip in anticipation, hissing through clenched teeth as Steve's cock began it's agonizingly slow push into his body. 

Beautiful patterns of colorful light danced in front of Loki's eyes as Steve worked his way in, and they exploded in spectacular star bursts when the Soldier gave a powerful forward thrust, driving his cock deep into Loki's center.

“Oh Steve!” he screamed, reveling in the relentless punishment his pelvis was taking. If Loki could spread his legs wider, he would have. His greedy hole wanted every inch of that spectacular cock and his body was happy to provide ample lubrication in order to illustrate the point.

 

****

 

If it were possible to attach himself to Loki so that his cock was inside him all the time, Steve would have seriously considered doing it. Nothing had ever felt as good as fucking Loki did. Even his ears were tingling. Steve took hold of one of Loki's legs and placed it on his shoulder. The change in angle caused Loki's pussy to hug Steve's cock tighter and the Soldier clenched his jaw in an effort to keep from cumming. 

Loki moaned unabashedly beneath him and once again Steve was struck by just how glorious the Trickster was. The early afternoon sun poured through the bedroom windows and the rays caressed Loki's silky black waves, creating a dark halo around his head. Loki was a fallen angel, lost in a sea of ecstasy. The art that this breathtaking tableaux could inspire would probably be enough to fill an entire gallery. 

_Loki Odinson in the throws of passion: A Retrospective._

Steve almost laughed but instead he caressed the long, alabaster leg hanging over his shoulder and planted several wet kisses along Loki's calf. He quickened his pace and drove his cock deeper into the waiting depths of his partner. The pleasure was making Steve's head spin.

“Oh, God.....Loki,” The words were squeezed from Steve's throat and forced out through gritted teeth as he hammered Loki into the bed. Sweat soaked Steve's hair and dripped into his eyes. He quickly wiped it away, only to have his hand grasped by Loki and his middle and ring fingers sucked into the moist confines of the Trickster's mouth. Loki licked the sweat from Steve's digits expertly and proceeded to suck on them as if they were something far more intimate. The sensation pulled at Steve's groin and the first sparks of his inevitable climax began to ignite within him. 

Determined to take Loki along for the ride, Steve began to furiously pump his lover's cock, twisting his hand as it came up Loki's shaft and giving the swollen, flushed head just enough of a squeeze. Loki gave a throat shredding cry and hot cum spurted from the tip of his penis, coating Steve's hand spattering against his throat. The slick, dirtiness of it was enough to send Steve over the edge. His orgasm crashed into him with the force of a truck and the soldier shattered into millions of star spangled pieces, filling his lover with what felt like gallons of cum. With his last ounce of strength, Steve removed Loki's leg from his shoulder and collapsed forward, his chest heaving and his mind struggling to put itself back together in the aftermath. Loki gave a small _oomph!_ , but no other complaint and the two spent the next few minutes catching their breath and waiting for the thundering in their chests to subside. 

 

****

 

The afternoon had drifted closer to evening by the time Steve and Loki finished their interlude of movies, sexual escapades and resting after. Steve was whistling a jazzy tune as he stepped into the steam filled confines of his shower, his heart feeling lighter than it ever had. The soldier flinched when the hot water came into contact with his skin but forced himself to stand beneath the spray and adjust to it. Since waking from the ice, Steve only took very hot showers. He usually spent a good twenty-plus minutes letting the near scalding water pepper his skin. His mother would have been horrified knowing he took showers that could run upwards of half an hour, but it was an indulgence that Steve allowed himself. The heat served as a reminder that he was no longer in the ice. He was on land and he was warm and alive and surrounded by people who cared. 

Steve braced his hands on the tile wall and dropped his head forward, letting water jets do their work on the back of his neck. It didn’t exactly ache, but there was stiffness there he wanted to address. He smiled at the memory of Loki squatting low over his face, hair drenched with sweat and plastered to the side of his face and neck. They had been heading into round two of their lovemaking and Steve had licked and sucked and teased Loki's pussy and anus until the Trickster was howling Steve's name along with a few words he hadn't understood. Words that sounded harsh and guttural. 

At one point there had been several that seemed to go straight to Steve's balls, vibrating along his nerves like a tuning fork. Once the shock of his orgasm receded and Loki had come back to himself, Steve asked him about the incident and was told that they were words of sexual power. 

 

“I can give you a more in depth demonstration of them if you like.” Loki was grinning, his eyes glittering with mischief. 

Steve smiled. “I don’t think I can handle anything like that right now, but I'd definitely be up for a demonstration in the near future.”

 

Steve reached for the shampoo, squeezed a generous amount into his palm and set to working his hair into a good lather. He closed his eyes. 

The jets hitting his back felt like fingers, fingers that danced down his spine and along the cleft of his cheeks, tickling and massaging his skin. When a cool breeze wafted across his front and he heard the click of the shower door, Steve knew he was no longer alone. 

“Loki.”

“I hope you don't mind if I join you.”

“No, I don't mind. I should warn you though, the water is very hot” Steve rinsed the shampoo out of his hair and opened his eyes to find Loki standing inside the shower watching him hungrily. The Trickster leaned with one shoulder against the blue tiled wall, steam rising around his lithe body. Steve gave his cock a tug and was not surprised when Loki's gaze followed the movement. 

“Come here,” Steve said. 

Loki pushed himself off the wall and closed the distance between himself and the Soldier. The two stood chest to chest, barely two inches between their respective heights with Steve being on the lower end. 

Loki leaned forward and whispered, “I'm here,” against Steve's lips. 

Steve placed his hand on Loki's pale shoulder and just a little pressure was all it took for him to understand what Steve wanted. Loki went to his knees and began placing little kisses in his nest of dark blond curls that framed Steve's cock. The Soldier's breaths deepened as those kisses moved inward and landed on his half hard shaft. 

****

Loki took a moment to appreciate the weight of Steve in his hand. His mouth watered as he examined the impressive organ and the large veins that ran along its length. He briefly wondered how much of it was due to the serum but ultimately decided that it didn’t matter. Loki wrapped his hand around the base of Steve's cock and moved the foreskin back. He gently ran his tongue along the swelling head and tasted the tang of precum. It was just slightly bitter but Loki wasn't bothered. He continued swiping his tongue across the head and in a swift movement, pulled the entire organ into his mouth as far as it would go. Steve moaned loudly above him and Loki took it as a sign of encouragement as he dragged his tongue and lips across the straining member. 

Once fully hard, it was more than Loki could fit in his mouth so he used his hand to grasp Steve's cock closer to the base while he bobbed back and fourth, sucking it for all it was worth. 

 

****

 

“Yes baby, that’s so good,” said Steve, head thrown back and eyes closed. His hands found their way into Loki's hair. It took all Steve's restraint not to forcefully thrust forward into the wet mouth that was just a little bit cooler than air around them. Loki's tongue felt a mile long as it caressed him. Steve shuddered, his knees nearly buckling when he felt fingertips grazing over his balls. Loki's lips slid to the end of his dick and started sucking the head in earnest and Steve felt the urge to cum building inside him. He wanted to blow his load in Loki's mouth and have him drink it all down, filling him from the top as well as the bottom. Just the thought of his spunk sliding down Loki's throat was enough to make Steve's pelvis stutter and it became impossible to keep from fucking into his mouth. 

Loki didn't seem to mind and renewed his efforts of slurping Steve's cock, heedless of the saliva pooling in his mouth and running down his chin. He bobbed and sucked and licked until Steve was thrusting almost violently. The orgasm began to crest and Steve's muscular legs trembled as hot jets of semen shot to the back of Loki's throat. He nearly doubled over, half screaming, half growling as Loki continued to suck, pulling every last drop of cum out of him.

 

****

Loki drank down as much as he could handle without choking and it was enough. Hands in his hair pulled him back away from Steve's cock and he was quickly pulled to his feet. Steve's tongue was forceful insistent as it plundered the inside of his mouth. The two kissed beneath the spray of water, even after it was no longer near scalding. By the time they broke the kiss, both were panting and Loki's cock was an angry red. He gasped when Steve took him in hand and it didn't take long before his cum was being pumped out of him with quick, efficient strokes. Steve ran his tongue along the back of his semen covered knuckles and gave Loki another kiss, their respective flavors mixing together in their mouths. 

The shower was finished without further incident mainly because Steve took his leave and decided to make a run down to the local Bodega while Loki finished washing, otherwise he might have ended up fucking Loki right up against the shower wall. 

Steve gave his hair a quick dry with a towel and slipped on a pair of boxer shorts, some jeans and a black tshirt. Normally he would put on socks as well but the store wasn’t far and Steve wanted to be back by the time Loki got out of the shower. He grabbed his jacket, keys and cell phone and practically jogged the two blocks it took to get to the store. While there, Steve grabbed milk, juice, a few apples and a pack of chocolate chip cookies. When he got back to the house Loki was just getting out of the shower. 

Steve put the few grocery items away and went upstairs to see what had become of Loki. He found the Trickster standing at his bedroom window, thoughtfully gazing out at the passing world as he dried his long, black hair. Damp, it fell just below Loki's shoulders and Steve's fingers twitched as he remembered how inhumanly soft it was. Loki hadn't bothered getting dressed and Steve took a moment to appreciate the view, sweeping his eyes down from the top of Loki's head, tracing along his spine and coming to rest on the gentle swell of the his high, toned ass. 

Just looking lost its appeal eventually and Steve walked forward into the room to plant a gentle kiss on Loki's bare shoulder. The Trickster continued to stare out the window but leaned back against Steve's chest. Steve wound his arms around his waist and the two stood there for a time, staring out at the landscape as the creamy orange light of a setting sun faded and the streetlamps and surrounding buildings cast the world into shadow and varying shades of electric light. 

“Are you hungry?” Steve asked.

“A bit,” responded Loki. “It seems I have been getting quite the workout and need to replenish my reserves.”

“I'll order pizza.”

“What is pizza?”

“Are you serious?”

Loki turned in Steve's arms and stared at him, frowning. “You do realize that despite being able to navigate with relative ease, I am not from this realm, correct?”

Steve laughed and kissed Loki's furrowed brow. “Of course, how silly of me. Allow me to give you a brief explanation of one of Midgard's finest delicacies.” He began walking backward toward the bed, pulling Loki along with him. “Pizza originates from the country of Italy and it usually consists of a round, flat piece of dough topped with tomato sauce, spices and cheese. You can get other things on it like pepperoni or anchovies. I’m partial to mushrooms myself. Anyway, they bake it up in these giant ovens and you do your best not to burn your lips off on the first bite.” He sat down and pulled Loki onto his lap. “You'll love it, I promise.”

****

 

Loki did Love it. Steve ordered two extra large pizzas, one with everything and one with just cheese. So far, Loki had polished off several slices of the everything and was currently working his way through the plain one. 

“Steven,” Loki said around a mouth full of pizza. “Remind me to never doubt you again when it comes to Midgardian cuisine.” He chewed what remained in his mouth and swallowed it down. “This pizza is amazing.”

Steve finished off what remained of his own slice. “Yeah, Gino's is one of the best pizzerias around and thanks to Tony spending an obscene amount of money there, they're willing to deliver anywhere in the city for the Avengers.”

“I suppose association with one of the kings of industry has its perks.”

“Most times, anyway. Other times it's enough just not letting him get to me. Tony Stark is one of the most generous people I have ever met and yet he often makes it his mission to be as obnoxious as he can possibly be. I know a lot of it is an act for the sake of onlookers and that we really are friends but there are moments when dealing with his antics can be kind of tedious.”

“You represent everything that the man of iron is not,” said Loki, wiping his hands on a napkin. “Strength of character, a good heart, modesty and purity. Its no wonder he picks on you. What else can he do in the face of all that he wishes he could be?”

“I don't think you can you really look back at what we've been doing these last few hours and still call me pure, Loki.”

Loki chuckled. “Oh Steven, even taking into account the absolute debauchery that has transpired in this house over this last day, you still remain uncorrupted. It's one of the reasons why I made the ultimate choice to seek you out. Surrounded by all of these man made lights, you still manage to shine brightest. Even with your questionable choices in bed partners, your goodness is undeniable. People like Tony Stark do everything they possibly can to stand out among the crowd, to be seen as more and yet you do it effortlessly.” Loki gave a small laugh. “I suppose I can sympathize with Stark in that. The need to be seen as more. For as long as I can remember, all I've ever wanted was for people to look at me the way they looked at Thor. To see me as someone destined for greatness. To have my father to speak of me with pride.” 

Suddenly Loki wasn't very hungry. He unfolded his legs from beneath him, tossed the unfinished slice back into the open pizza box and avoided looking at Steve because he knew that the man's ridiculously earnest gaze would be his undoing. His hands sat limply in his lap and he was staring down at them when the next words came. “No one believes me when I tell them, but it was never my intention for things to transpire as they did. I truly believed I could make a difference. I was just so full of rage. And after a while that rage became self sustaining. By the time I realized that things had gotten far beyond my control, there was nothing to do other than keep fighting and hope to come out of the other end alive.”

“And now that you have?” Steve asked. “Now that you've managed to survive all of this, what will you do?”

Loki had no idea. No longer driven by the need to rule, to prove himself higher than the likes of others, Loki felt adrift. “I suppose I will travel the realms,” he said finally. “There are wonderful sights to behold if one knows where to look, and thankfully I am resourceful enough to stay ahead of any potential harm.”

“Do you have a lot of enemies?” Steve asked quietly.

“I've accumulated my share over the centuries. Nothing I cannot handle.”

“You could always stay here,” Steve said. “You could move in with me.”

Loki's heart fluttered at the thought. He would give a great deal to be able to stay there and build a life with Steve Rogers, but he was no fool, and neither was the Captain. “And here I thought you more pragmatic than that, Steve. Pray tell, how long after I move in before word gets back to S.H.I.E.L.D and they demand that I surrender myself to them? That I allow them to keep track of my every movement? There is no way they would permit me to live here in peace, especially not sharing a dwelling with their prized super soldier.” 

Steve looked as if he were about to protest but Loki pressed two fingers against the soldier's lips. “Let us not speak of it further,” he said softly. “We have very little time left to enjoy each other and I would not spend it dwelling on unpleasant things. Things we cannot change.” Loki traced his fingers along Steve's lower lip. “Not when there are much more enjoyable things we could be doing.” He gave Steve a seductive smile and leaned in, replacing his fingers with his lips. 

The kiss started off slow. Steve was hesitating and Loki could feel the tension in the Soldier's body. It was important that Steve be relaxed. That he want this. Being wanted by Steve was the best feeling Loki ever experienced and now that he had tasted it, Loki feared that nothing else would do. The thought terrified him, yet still he clung to Steve, pushing all that he was into the kiss, silently begging for entry into his space. 

Strong hands gripped his upper arms and with a none too gentle pull, Loki was crushed against Steve's broad chest. There was the heady scent of the soldier's cologne and something else that lay beneath. Something that was all male and pure Steve. Loki moaned in relief when Steve's lips parted, making way for a moist tongue that skimmed across his bottom lip. Loki slid his own tongue along Steve's and within the space of a few heartbeats, the two were devouring each others mouths hungrily. Steve's hands moved from Loki's arms to bury themselves in his hair, gripping it with a force that made his eyes water and his cock swell. 

 

Loki moaned as Steve yanked his head back, bearing Loki's pale throat. Steve kissed and nibbled along the column of flesh and the joy at being desired rose up again, smothering any feelings of uncertainty or doubt. This was what he needed. The unbridled passion that Steve was so very capable of, not long, meaningless talks about unpleasant things. Things were always so much better when they were fucking. 

The hands left his hair and Loki opened his eyes, all set to protest.

“Take off the shirt,” said Steve, moving away briefly to set the pizza boxes on the floor.

Loki pulled the oversized t-shirt over his head and flung it to away with glee. As far as he was concerned, there would never be a need for clothing while in Steve's presence. He scooted himself back toward the pillows and watched as Steve began removing his clothing. 

Watching Steve undress was like watching a gift unwrap itself. The shirt went first, stripping him to the waist and baring that glorious physique. Loki licked his lips as he thought of caressing Steve's pink nipples with his tongue. The Soldier's mesmerizing blue eyes smoldered as his hands went to his belt, the outline of his half hard cock clearly visible. Several pulls and tugs later, the caged organ was free and his pants were sliding down his muscular thighs. Loki watched, hypnotized as Steve climbed onto the bed and crawled toward him. Their eyes were riveted to each other's and Steve reminded him of a wild beast, calmly stalking it's prey across some grassy plain. 

The soldier placed a small kiss on Loki's instep and another on the inside of Loki's ankle. Strong hands caressed his calf and more kisses trailed their way up Loki's leg until finally they had reached the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. Steve had not shaved that morning and Loki squirmed beneath the feel of the newly sprouted whiskers rubbing against him. 

 

****

 

Steve chuckled. Being around Loki might have been having more of an effect on him than he realized because he was definitely in the mood for a bit of mischief. He raised an eyebrow at Loki. “Feeling a bit ticklish, are we?”

The Trickster's eyes widened and he went very still. “Steven, do not dare.” Loki held out a hand to ward him off and made an attempt to get away but it was too late and Steve was already on him, tickling at the sensitive flesh of his legs until Loki could barely breathe he was laughing so hard. 

“I demand you stop this at once!” he wheezed but Steve was having none of it. He tickled Loki mercilessly and the two wrestled around on the large bed, a tangle of long legs and flailing arms, until finally Steve pinned a frantically squirming Trickster beneath him and asked, “Do you yield?” 

To which Loki responded, “Yes Captain America! I yield. I yield!” 

Smiling smugly, Steve leaned in for a kiss but Loki, ever the Trickster, used the opportunity to flip their positions and with a slight push of his hands and roll of his hips, Steve was beneath him. 

“ _Varrrrrrgessh,_ ” said Loki into Steve's ear, his voice taking on a guttural quality as as he rolled the 'r' sound across his tongue. Steve's back bowed off the bed as pure pleasure shot through his body like a jolt of electricity. It felt as if Loki had run his tongue up Steve's spine but, amazingly, he was still on top of him. 

Loki smiled down at Steve with a devilish grin. “You like?” 

“What the hell was that?!” asked Steve, his skin still humming.

“Do you not recall my promise to demonstrate the language of Eriz?” Loki shifted so that he was curled up on Steve's side rather than on top of him. Bracing himself on his elbow, Loki began drawing small circles on Steve's bare abdomen with his finger. “During my travels around the realms, I once came upon a small band of priestesses on a remote world. They worshiped a fertility goddess by the name of Eriz and used words of power to draw out and harness sexual energy for the purposes of magic. I, being a student of magic, opted to study with them for a time. They were actually quite friendly. Skilled bakers too. They made the most delicious cakes.” Loki traced his finger along Steve's hip. “Up until now I've never really had the opportunity to fully utilize what I learned.” Green eyes looked innocently up at Steve. “Shall we give it a go?”

Steve was nervous but he still said yes. He began to second guess the decision when the innocent expression from a moment before turned into something more sinister and Loki's smile was wide and wolfish. “Excellent.”

 

****

Loki leaned in and whispered another word of power into Steve's ear and was delighted when the super soldier's eyes rolled back in his head and his hands gripped the sheets, nearly shredding them. When Steve's eyes were visible again, they were hazy with the pleasure that Loki was calling fourth. His breath was coming out in little pants and small beads of sweat had formed along his brow. 

“Steven you are beginning to perspire,” Loki sat up and ran his hand lazily along the inside of Steve's thigh. The muscles quivered beneath his fingertips. “How are you feeling?”

“Odd,” said Steve just a little breathlessly. 

Loki smiled and leaned back in, putting his lips close to Steve's throat. “ _Coorrrrrrvaaaa_ ,” he purred and watched with wide eyes as Steve began to writhe around on the bed. Little moans were emanating from his throat and the Soldier's cock was rapidly filling with blood. The organ proudly lifted away from his body and when an amazed Loki moved in for a closer look, Steve raised his head from the pillow. 

“You just gonna sit there and stare at it?” Steve asked almost frantically. His face was a startling shade of red.

Loki shook his head dumbly and gave the engorged member a lick. Steve's hips bucked upward. His cock danced before his lover's eyes. 

“More. _Please_.” Steve's voice was desperate, the words sounding as if they were being squeezed out of him. The veins on the side of his face and neck were standing out against his flushed skin and a fine tremor had begun to vibrate through his body. Loki licked Steve's cock again and followed up by taking the entire head in his mouth. Steve cried out and gripped his lover's hair, roughly pushing him further down his shaft. Loki gagged. He could feel Steve struggling for control but the arousal was riding him too hard. The Soldier was trying to keep from choking him but it was an effort. The magic working it's way through Steve's body had even the bed shaking and Loki was beginning to get a little nervous. It seemed that toying with words older than Odin had the unintended consequences of heightening his lover's arousal to a frightening level. 

Loki tried his best to maintain some sort of rhythm with Steve's thrusting but it was no use. After several more frantic pumps from Steve's hips, powerful jets of semen were shooting to the back of his throat. The Trickster did his best to swallow it down but the force of Steve's orgasm was too much and soon semen was running over Loki's lips and down his chin. 

Things happened very quickly after that. Loki sat up in an effort to regain his composure but Steve's hands were already on his shoulders. The world spun and suddenly he was on his back, staring up at the ceiling. 

Loki's heart picked up speed at the sight of the wild blue eyes and disheveled blond hair that loomed above him. Steve was still very red in the face and very aroused. Without a word, he hooked his arms beneath the bend of Loki's knees and pulled him roughly forward, lining his straining cock (now an angry purple) up with the slick opening of Loki's pussy. 

The single, perfectly aimed thrust stole the wind from Loki lungs and while Steve let out a satisfied, throat vibrating growl, Loki was struck dumb by the sheer magnitude of the sensations rebounding through his body. The power coursing through Steve had locked onto Loki's magic and the god of Mischief could do nothing but gasp for breath as Steve's power charged dick settled within him. It felt as if Steve was behind his eyes, spilling out of his ears, pushing out from beneath his nails. Loki's entire world had been reduced to nothing but the feeling of Steve filling him. 

The two lovers were both panting and moaning unashamedly as Steve effectively pummeled Loki into the mattress. The soldier's pace was absolutely brutal and Loki could feel every inch of Steve's deep and forceful stroke as he bounced on the bed. 

“So good,” the soldier told his lover, his words nearly slurring. “So. Fucking. Good.” 

Each word was punctuated by a forceful jerk of his pelvis and Loki rolled his hips upward in an effort to meet each powerful thrust. Steve shifted his long arms slightly until he was able to place his hands on Loki's shoulders. The slight change in angle was enough for him to effectively pull Loki onto his cock and gain an even deeper level of penetration. 

****

Steve's cock felt like a lead pipe...heavy and extremely hard. He reveled in the feel of Loki's tight heat sliding along it, back and fourth, back and fourth, surrounded by slick and making the most obscene noises. Loki was half moaning, half mewling beneath him and all Steve wanted to do was bury himself in this beautiful, responsive creature and never ever come up for air. “So close,” Steve whimpered, his world blurring around the edges. “Oh my God!” 

The soldier's head was swimming as the world seemed to be reduced to so many swirling colors. Not since before the serum had Steve felt so inebriated. It was like being drunk but so much more. All was Loki. Loki's scent, the sound of Loki's moans, the feel of Loki's insides as they rubbed along Steve's cock. Millions of tiny tongues of pleasure licked across the soldier's skin and threatened to overwhelm him with sensation. Steve stared, mesmerized as vivid ribbons of green and gold danced over the surface of Loki's skin. His own skin shimmered with a sparkling silver and the brightest, most vivid shades of blue. 

Steve touched Loki's face and marveled as the colors mixed together. Loki's tongue darted out to lick his thumb and the Soldier groaned, driving himself over and over into the Trickster, determined to pour all that he was into him. 

Loki moaned and began chanting “Oh Steve,” over and over. His slick hand was frantically working his cock and the colors around the area where he and Steve were joined, swirled together in a frenzy. Loki's legs locked around Steve's waist and a violent tremor shook his entire body and hot semen shot upward, splattering Steve's neck and chest. 

The sight of Loki's ejaculation, and the sound of his name on the Trickster's lips, pushed Steve over the edge of his own pleasure. The world went white as the incredible force of his magically aided orgasm tore through his body, ripping a harsh, painful cry from his throat. While maintaining what he was sure was a bruising grip on Loki's shoulders, Steve screamed through clenched teeth and pumped his hips as strong jets of semen shot deep into his lover's pussy. Loki's legs were wide and welcoming as he encouraged Steve to fill him with his cum. Long fingers coaxed and caressed him and as Loki's hand cupped Steve's jaw, the soldier turned and placed a wet kiss on his palm. 

****

Frantic breathing and thundering heartbeats eventually slowed down and Steve gingerly untangled himself from his partner. He collapsed forward, half on Loki, half on the bed, and the two could do little more than kiss languidly for the next few minutes, both still too deep in their own headspace to do much else. 

Loki was the first to come back to himself. His head and limbs felt like they were full of sand as he swung them over the side of the bed. Still, he was able to get up, hobble to the bathroom on unsteady legs, and return with a warm towel to clean the semen off both his and Steve's bodies. Steve hissed when the towel touched the still sensitive skin of his cock. Loki made a soothing noise and wiped it as gently as he could while still being effective. Steve was still half hard and Loki was careful not to overstimulate him. Firstly, Loki didn't think he was up for another pounding so soon and second, Steve looked fucking _exhausted_.

Once the cleanup was complete, Loki dropped the towel on the floor beside the bed and climbed back beneath the blankets, cuddling close to his lover, who was nearly unconscious. When a large, muscular arm wrapped around his middle, locking him in place, Loki smiled. 

 

Tomorrow, Steve would have to change his sheets but for tonight he was content to pull Loki close to his chest and draw the blankets up over their worn out bodies. Sleep came quickly that night and as it began to overtake him, Loki wrapped himself tighter around Steve and sighed. Much to his own surprise, the Trickster seemed to have found a niche with the Super Soldier. A place where he could be himself and not have to worry about feeling unworthy or unwanted. And to be wanted by one of the finest mortals Midgard had to offer felt pretty good. Loki felt safe and cared for and though the future was uncertain, at that moment Loki felt more peace than he had in centuries. There would be plenty of time to worry about the days beyond this one but for now he contented himself with soaking up Steve's warmth. Steve's scent. These were the things that would sustain him when the inevitable moment came and he had to leave. But he wouldn’t think of that now. No. He would, instead, enjoy the post coital haze as it carried him off to his dreams. 

Loki sighed contentedly. That had been one dangerous and amazing fuck. If this was what happened when Loki uttered just a few words, he didn’t think he would be able to survive sending Steve into the full state of arousal the magic was capable of. The Soldier might end up eating him alive, even as he fucked him silly. Loki swallowed and opted to ignore the way his cock twitched at the thought. 

Steve placed a sleepy, sweet kiss on the top of his head and it warmed Loki to the soles of his feet. After another moment his breath began to even out. He was asleep. Loki smiled a serene smile as sleep claimed him as well. He'd done the right thing taking this chance.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The weekend comes to an abrupt end. Things get a bit angsty.

 

Loki woke up to a feeling of warmth against his chest. He opened his eyes and the top of Steve's blond head came into focus. At some point during the night they had switched positions. The soldier's arm was thrown protectively around Loki's waist while a large, muscular leg pinned both of his in place. Loki hated to remove himself from the security of the Steve's arms but he had to urinate, so much to his own chagrin, he carefully extracted himself from his lover's grip, climbed out of bed, and made his way to the bathroom. When he returned, Steve was awake and in the process of sitting up. His hair was smashed to one side of his head and his vivid blue eyes stood out even more so with his face still flushed from sleep. He was adorably rumpled and looked more like an overgrown boy than a nearly hundred year old man. He smiled and Loki smiled back. Steve's smiles had a habit of being highly contagious. 

“Good morning,” the soldier rumbled, his baritone even lower from sleep. 

Loki walked back to the bed and leaned in to give Steve a kiss. “Good morning to you. I trust you slept well.”

“Like a rock. You?”

“Quite well, thank you.” He righted himself and went over to the chair, slipping on Steve's robe. Loki dropped himself into the armchair, his legs falling apart as he relaxed into his natural sitting posture. “So,” Loki crossed his hands behind his head. “What's on the agenda for today, Captain Rogers? More Midgardian films and exploration of each other's bodies?” Loki wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Steve chuckled. 

 

****

 

“I was thinking we could have breakfast and then maybe you might be willing to let me paint you today.”

Loki raised an elegantly arched eyebrow. “You wish to paint _me_? Whatever for?”

“Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you're all mesmerizing eyes and beautiful lines and I've been dying to put your image on canvas since the first time I saw you. Is that a good enough reason for you?”

Loki rolled his eyes but Steve could tell by the bit of color in his cheeks that he was pleased by the compliment. 

“I suppose I could do my part for the artistic community and pose for you," he said. "Is there a plush piece of furniture somewhere in this house that you would have me drape myself over?”

Steve smiled “Unfortunately not. I'm still thinking about how I want you. Why don't we have a shower and some breakfast. By the time we're finished I'll have a better idea about what I'd like to do.”

 

Loki agreed and the two proceeded to shower, have sex in said shower, get dressed, have breakfast, clean up the remnants of said breakfast and by eleven am., Loki was stretched across Steve's bed, reading quietly while Snow snoozed comfortably on his back. This time it was Steve who sat in the armchair, his easel set up not far away. His paintbox sat open at his feet as he contemplated his supplies. 

 

Another thing that helped make the future bearable was that Steve had access to more art supplies than he had ever dreamed possible. He'd spent hours on various art supply websites, filling his virtual cart with creative goodies, as well as gone shopping in the city so that he might explore some of the shops firsthand. 

The first time Steve had gone for supplies, he'd bought so much that it had to be delivered separately. The Soldier had been just a little bit embarrassed at his splurging but it was hard not to overindulge. The money wasn't an issue and there had been so many types of pencils and inks. The assortment of paints took up several aisles and there was even a section devoted-with an almost cult like adoration-to a painter named Bob Ross. 

 

As Steve sat various tubes of paint on the table, he stole periodic glances at Loki, whose fingers caressed the pages of the magazine as he hummed quietly, perfectly at ease with the sleeping cat on his back. 

Steve wondered if this was what Loki was like before his world fell apart. Before he discovered that all that he'd been raised to believe was a lie. Thor had tried to tell them how his younger brother hadn't always been a power mad villain. He'd spoken of a happier, more carefree Loki. Steve thought he might be getting a glimpse of the person that Thor had grown up alongside. 

The artist in him wanted to preserve this image of a laid-back, tension free Trickster on the off chance that he didn't see it again for a long while. 

Just the thought of not seeing Loki after this life altering weekend shriveled something inside of Steve. He forced the nearly nauseating feeling away, doing his best to focus on the present. The day wasn't over yet. 

Steve looked up from his almost brooding and found that Loki's eyes had moved away from the magazine and were currently focused on him. 

“You are thinking of unpleasant things,” the Trickster said levelly. 

Steve reached into the box and removed a pencil case. Retrieving the item and placing it on the table allowed him a moment to school his expression into one of neutrality. When he met that piercing green gaze again, Steve found he could no more lie to Loki than he could breathe underwater. 

“I’m making an honest effort not to,” he said. Steve needed something to do with his hands so he returned to unpacking his supplies. “I just feel like there's a gigantic clock ticking over top of our heads and we're almost out of time.”

Loki tilted his head slightly, his gaze seeming to soften. “And if you had all the time in the world, what would you do then?”

“I'd make you mine,” Steve said truthfully. He placed a handful of brushes on the table and let his hands fall gracelessly into his lap. For all that he'd been avoiding Loki's gaze a minute ago, he now felt compelled to seek it out. Steve had to make him understand that this was not just about sex or some lost weekend. “I'd do whatever needed doing to ensure that you wouldn't ever have to leave, or hide or even deal with Thor and the rest of your family if you didn't want to.”

A sad smile bloomed on Loki's face. His voice was soft when he said, “You hardly know me and yet you offer to bring me into your life...your heart. You speak of fairy tales, Steven. Something I stopped believing in a long time ago.”

“And did you think that you would ever find yourself sitting here, like this?” Steve gestured between the two of them, “because here we are. Since waking up nearly a century in the future, I've learned that all bets are off. Nothing is impossible.” He rose from the chair and crossed the room in three strides, deftly removing Snow from Loki's back and placing him on the bed. The magazine was pushed aside and Steve pulled Loki to his knees. Frustration bubbled up within him and his voice was fierce as he practically shook the wide eyed Trickster. “I don't know if I can give you up after all of this Loki! You make me feel real in a way I can't even describe and I know you feel it too, I can hear your heart racing even now. I know you want this as much as I do.”

Loki didn't deny the truth of Steve's words. Instead, he looked away from Steve and said, “You want the unattainable, Captain.”

“Oh, so it's back to Captain again huh?” Steve's voice dropped low as he ghosted his lips along Loki's jaw. “It wasn't _Captain_ you were screaming last night, was it?” He brought his lips close to Loki's ear. “You're trying to distance yourself from me and I won't let you. I can't.” The last word came out cracked but Steve didn't care. 

He held Loki's face in his hands and kissed him like it was the last time. For all Steve knew it could be and the thought burned him to his very core. He had gotten drunk on the fallen Prince of Asgard and was now hopelessly addicted. He wanted to see those brilliant green eyes every morning. He wanted to go to work with the smell of Loki on his skin, safe in the knowledge that they would be back in each others arms as soon as the day was over. 

 

****

 

Loki responded to the kiss as if he wanted to drink Steve down. Their passion became a dance of popped buttons and desperate hands and fevered kisses. Steve fumbled with his belt but Loki was growing impatient. He needed Steve now and with a wave of his hand, both were minus their clothing.

“That was amazing,” Steve said breathlessly. He pulled Loki close so that the entire line of their bodies lay flush against each other. 

Loki chuckled through the press of his lips on Steve's neck. He pulled Steve down onto the bed and the soldier fell forward. Loki sighed at the feeling of Steve's warm skin against his own. “If we can have nothing else, let us at least have this.” 

Steve didn't respond verbally but Loki felt him give a minute nod of his head. The day would get away from them soon enough and before it did, Loki wanted to have another taste of his dear Soldier. 

For Loki to have gone from aimlessly wandering to clinging to what felt suspiciously like love in the space of just two days both amazed and dismayed him. He had come to Steve Rogers seeking...what had Loki been seeking? Absolution? Understanding? Loki wasn't sure. All he knew for certain was when he saw the compassion and care in the Captain's eyes, the concern for complete strangers whom he owed nothing, he wanted to be looked upon in such a way. Thor's gaze once held something similar but those days were gone. Now his brother's vivid gaze held only disdain and maybe a trace of pity. Steve did not disdain him. Steve did not pity him. Steve was well aware of Loki's past deeds and still treated him with kindness and respect. In spite of having every reason not to, Steve had agreed to sit down with Loki and the result was something that neither of them could have anticipated. 

What Loki had hungered for his whole life, he had managed to find in Steve and because fate was a cruel bitch, Loki had to walk away from him. 

Being aligned with the god of Mischief would only bring trouble to Steve's life and Loki simply couldn't allow that. Just the thought of one of his enemies getting his hands on Steve made Loki ill. The Soldier was like a found treasure and Loki would keep him in a secret place, far away from grasping beasts who would gleefully snuff out his beautiful light. Steve was his, even if he could not claim him the way he wanted to. And as much as it pained Loki to admit it, even to himself, he was Steve's. No matter how many lovers he would come to know in his life, none would ever come close to the disarmingly earnest man out of time. Steve squeezed him in a full body hug and a whimper escaped his throat before he could stop it. 

“Loki I-,”

“Do not say it,” said Loki. He could feel his throat thickening with emotion and had to turn away from the soldier's piercing gaze, lest his mouth betray him and return the sentiment. 

Steve continued speaking even as his body undulated against Loki's in a slow and dirty dance, their hard cocks rubbing against each other like crossed swords. His lips grazed along Loki's throat. “I don't mean to make this harder,” Steve whispered, “but I can't help how I feel.” his warm, wet tongue licked a stripe from Loki's chin to his clavicle making him groan. The Soldier continued the confession that was burning Loki to his very soul. “I would never have believed that I could feel this way about anyone in just two days, least of all someone who I've been told to see as an enemy, but here it is. The impossible being possible once again.”

Loki turned back to Steve, the tears that had sprung to life in his eyes creating horizontal tracks that ran back to his ear. “With you I could almost dare to believe,” he whispered, and Steve favored him with a beautiful smile that felt like a blessing. Loki pushed his fingers through his lover's tousled blond hair and pulled him down into another kiss. It only took a slight movement of his hips and Steve was pushing against Loki's vaginal opening. The fat head of Steve's cock breached him and Loki gave a low hiss. He wrapped his long legs around Steve's narrow waist and moaned loudly as Steve's weight pinned him to the bed.

Loki was determined to take all that he could. He was a greedy, selfish bastard and he didn't care. He needed this, needed Steve. “Make love to me Steve, please.”

The Soldier's kiss was firm as his hands slid down Loki's sides. His stroke was slow and deep and Loki could feel the tremor in his body. He could hear the soft whine in the back of Steve's throat.

 

Captain America's communicator going off was like a bucket of cold water. Loki would have laughed at the murderous expression on Steve's face had he not been so livid himself. Sighing, he removed his legs from Steve's waist. Steve pulled out and both he and Loki gasped. The soldier's jaw was clenched tight as he rolled off of Loki and snatched the small device from the nightstand.

 

 

****

 

“Rogers here.”

“Time to suit up Cap.” The voice and image of Nick Fury came across the communicator “Need you, Hawkeye and Widow flying out at twenty-one hundred. There's a car en route, you'll be debriefed when you arrive at headquarters. See you in thirty”

Steve gave a stiff nod. “Yes Sir, I'll be ready” He logged off the communicator and the silence was thick enough to stand a spoon in. “Loki -”

“No explanations are needed,” said Loki, trying for nonchalance and only partially succeeding. He sat up, pulling the sheet over his body. “This is your life Steven. It is the life of a hero. As a villain I have no place in that life other than on the side of the opposition. These days with you have opened my eyes to something I never even thought possible and I thank you for that, but we cannot ignore the reality of our situation forever.”

Steve breathed a heavy sigh, his heart feeling like a vice had gripped it. “I don't want you to go,” he said quietly, the pain in his voice barely contained.

“And the knowledge that you would have me stay will keep me warm on those cold nights when the solitude threatens to turn on me.” Loki got off of the bed and walked over to Steve. He took the soldier's face in his hands and put their foreheads together. “You are a wonderful man, Steven Rogers, and I would not stay and corrupt you any further than I already have. You deserve so much more than a broken monster.”

“Don't talk about yourself that way!” Steve snapped, grasping Loki's upper arms in his large, strong hands. He gripped hard enough to bruise but Loki remained passive. Steve felt like shaking some sense into him....or maybe kissing it into him, but he had to change and the S.H.I.E.L.D. car would be there any minute. “Please, just stay til I get back. It shouldn’t be too long, a day or two at most.” 

Loki gave a small smile. “I shall consider it. Now go change lest you be late for your escort to S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters.” Loki made little shooing motions with his hands and Steve went to the closet to get one of the garment bags that held his spare suits. 

****

Steve informed him that he had never really dressed in front of anyone before but Loki insisted on watching the entire transformation. After many pulls, tugs and fastenings, it was no longer Steve Rogers who stood in that bedroom with Loki. Captain America turned to face him and it was easy for Loki to see why people were in awe of him. Why they feared him. In this persona, Steve Rogers practically bled power. His eyes were like cold steel and his stance was implacable. That Loki was still naked and vulnerable in the presence of that authority filled him with a guilty little thrill. He gave the hero a tentative smile and blue eyes that had gone cold and distant, filled with warmth like water filling a cup. Once again it was Steve Rogers standing there. Steve Rogers staring at Loki with affection and hope and sadness all naked in his baby blue eyes. 

“I really hope you're here when I get back,” said Steve and Loki wondered if the sound of his heart breaking was audible.

He didn't affirm or negate anything and instead pressed his entire self against Steve, soaking up more of his warmth to store in his memories. He told Steve, “be safe, my darling.” and gave the Captain a chaste, soft kiss. Unsatisfied with the mere brush of lips, Steve pulled Loki in for something more passionate. By the time it was over, Loki's head was swimming. 

Steve stepped away, the slight shine on his pouty lips the only proof that anything was amiss. He gave Loki a long, weighted look but said nothing further. He retrieved his shield from an unseen location within the closet and with a brief nod, Steve exited the bedroom. A moment later Loki heard the front door open and shut. Steve was gone. 

 

Loki barely registered the floor as he fell to his knees. If the Trickster had thought himself low-spirited when he was pulled out of the dyngja, that was a minor thing compared the feelings of desolation and despair currently coursing through him. The tears flowed for some time before Loki was aware of anything other than the profound sadness that had wrapped itself around him like a suffocating blanket. He made quiet gasping noises as he remembered to finally breathe. The sounds of the city beyond began to trickle in. The laughter of a running child. Music pouring from the windows of a passing vehicle. The world was moving on as he fell to pieces. 

Loki had chosen to come to Midgard in order to lick his wounds and contemplate his options, not bond with anyone. Anonymity had been the goal, with Loki being a face among a sea of other faces, free of the burdens he'd carried for so long. All of that had changed, however, the moment he glimpsed Steve Rogers, a warrior whose strength could only be rivaled by the kindness in his heart. A heart that was willing to draw Loki into it. A heart the he was in no way worthy of. 

Loki closed his eyes and took a deep shuddering breath. Steve's smell still clung to his skin, to the room. His essence lingered like a pleasant memory at the back of Loki's throat. He could still taste Steve's sweat and saliva. He could taste the bitter tang of Steve's cum. It made him hard....and wet...and he hated himself for it. 

Surrounded by Steve's things, still smelling like Steve, still seeing Steve in his mind's eye, Loki began to feel overwhelmed. His breaths began to come in quick pants. He needed to leave this house and put as much distance between himself and Steve Rogers as he could manage. It was the only way. 

Using the bed to lean against, Loki got to his feet and used magic to dress himself. While in Steve's presence, he had refrained from casual magic so as not to upset the human. It felt good to use it again, like stretching a muscle that had been a bit too sedentary as of late. 

Snow watched him reproachfully from the armchair. Steve's enigmatic pet cat had grown on him as well.  
“You will have to keep an eye on him for me,” he told the creature. Snow seemed to roll his eyes at that. 

Loki considered leaving a note for Steve but decided against it. No. A clean break was best. It would be less painful in the end. He sighed and walked to the center of the bedroom. Magic set everything to rights and the room looked neat and orderly again, just like Steve. Loki stared at the bed and could still picture his dear Soldier sitting up in it, smiling his sleepy smile. Sighing heavily, Loki closed his eyes against the vision and let the magic take him.


End file.
